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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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Q)cXr 2 1 , >H^ &; 

THOUGHTS 



ON 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE, 



TO Y T HTCH IS ADDED 

AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING "LETTERS 
TO THE AGED," &c. &c. 



BY THE 



Rev. ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 



*> 



, Professor of Pastoral and Polemic Theology in the Princeton The h ^MM Se&iB 



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PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 

NO. S-ll CHESTKOT STREET. 



B 

V 






.A 






Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 18-11 by 
A . W . MITCHELL, If . D . 
in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court for the Eastern Dist 
of Pennsylvania. 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1868 by 

Tin: TR0STKH8 of tiii: 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 

in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court for the Eastern District 

of Pennsylvania. 



. 



*N 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER I. 

Early religious impressions. — Different results. — Classes of 
persons least impressed. — Examples of ineffectual impressions. 13 

CHAPTER II. 

Piety in children. — Comparatively few renewed in infancy and 
childhood. — Soul awakened in different ways. — Legal con- 
viction not a necessary part of true religion. — Progress of 
conviction. - - - - ... 22 

CHAPTER III. 

The new birth an event of great importance. — The evidences of 
the new birth. — Diversities of experience in Converts. — Ex- 
amples. — Causes of diversity. - - - - 35 

CHAPTER IV. 

Causes of diversity in experience continued. — Effect of tempera- 
ment. — Melancholy. — Advice to the friends of persons thus 
affected. — Subject continued. — Illustrative cases. — Causes of 
melancholy and insanity. - - - - 48 

CHAPTER V. 

Effect of sympathy illustrated. — Cautions in relation to this sub- 
ject. — A singular case in illustration. - - 69 

CHAPTER VI. 

Erroneous views of regeneration. — The correct view. — The ope- 
ration of faith. — Exercises of mind, as illustrated in Presi- 
dent Edwards's Narrative. — The operations of faith still fur- 
ther explained. - - - - - .79 

CHAPTER VII. 

Considerations on dreams, visions, &c. — Remarkable conversion 
of a blind infidel from hearing the Bible read. - 102 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Religious Conversation. — Stress laid by some on the know- 
ledge of the time and place of conversion. — Religious ex- 
perience of Halyburton. ... 120 

CHAPTER IX. 

Christian experience of R C . — Narrative of Sir 

Richard Hill's experience. - - - - 1 34 

CHAPTER X. 

Imperfect sanctification. — The spiritual warfare. • - 156 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Narrative of G— A S , an Episcopal Clergyman. 

Narrative of a young Officer in the Army. - . - 167 

CHAPTER XII. 

The spiritual conflict. — Various exhibitions of it. — Evil thoughts. 
A case in illustration. - - . - 177 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Growth in grace. — Signs of it. — Practical directions how to 
grow in grace. — Hindrances to it. - • - 191 

CHAPTER XIV 
Backsliding. — The Backslider restored. ... 205 

CHAPTER XV. 

The rich man and the poor. — The various trials of believers. 215 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Death-bed of the Believer. ..... 225 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Death-bed exercises of Andrew Rivet - 231 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Death-bed exercises and speeches of Rev. Thomas Halyburton. 250 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Dying Experience of Mr. John Janeway, the Rev. Edward Pay- 
son, and Rev. Samuel Finley, D. D. - - . 259 

CHAPTER XX. 
Remarks on death-bed Exercise*, with several illustrative ex- 
amples. ----..- 271 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Death-bed exercises of Mr. Baxter, and the Rev. Tl>omas Scott, 
D. D. - - - - . . - 282 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Preparation for death. — The state of the soul after death. 294 

Prayer for one who feels that he is approaching the borders of 
another world. ...... 307 



APPENDIX. 
Letters to the Aged. ... 
Counsels of the Aged to the Young. 
Counsels to Christian Mothers. 
Letter to a Mourning Afflicted Widow. 
Letter to a Bereaved Widower. 



. 313 

- 343 
* 374 

- 387 
. 392 



PREFACE 



There are two kinds of religious knowledge, 
which though intimately connected as cause 
and effect, may nevertheless be distinguished. 
These are the knowledge of the truth as it is 
revealed in the Holy Scriptures, and the im- 
pression which that truth makes on the human 
mind when rightly apprehended. The first 
may be compared to the inscription or image 
on a seal ; the other to the impression made 
by the seal on the wax. When that impres- 
sion is clearly and distinctly made, we can 
understand, by contemplating it, the true in- 
scription on the seal more satisfactorily, than 
by a direct view of the seal itself. Thus it*is 
found, that nothing tends more to confirm and 
elucidate the truths contained in the word, 
than an inward experience of their efficacy on 
the heart. It cannot, therefore, be uninterest- 
ing to the Christian, to have these effects, as 
they consist in the various views and affec- 
tions of the mind, traced out, and exhibited 
in their connexion with the truth, and in theit 

1* 5 



PREFACE. 



relation to each other. There is, however 
one manifest disadvantage, under which we 
must labour, in acquiring this kind of know- 
ledge, whether by our own experience, or that 
of others; which is, that we are obliged to 
follow a fallible guide; and the pathway to 
this knowledge is very intricate, and the light 
which shines upon it, often obscure. All 
investigations of the exercises of the human 
mind are attended with difficulty; and never 
more so, than when we attempt to ascertain 
the religious or spiritual state of our hearts 
If, indeed, the impression of the truth were 
perfect, there would exist little or no difficulty, 
but when it is a mere outline and the linea- 
ments obscure, it becomes extremely difficult 
to determine whether it be the genuine im- 
press of the truth : especially as in this case, 
there will be much darkness and confusion in 
the mind, and much that is of a nature di- 
rectly opposite to the effects of the engrafted 
word. There is, moreover, so great a variety 
in the constitution of human minds, so much 
diversity in the strength of the natural pas- 
sions, and so wide a difference in the tempera- 
ment of Christians, and so many different 
degrees of piety, that the study of this depart- 
ment of religious truth is exceedingly difficult, 
In many cases the most experienced and skil 



PREFACE. 



ful casuist will feel himself at a loss ; or may 
utterly mistake, in regard to the true nature 
of a case submitted to his consideration. The 
complete knowledge of the deceitful heart of 
man, is a prerogative of the omniscient God. 
" I the Lord search the hearts and try the 
reins of the children of men." But we are 
not on this account forbidden to search into 
this subject; so far is this from being true, 
that we are repeatedly exhorted to examine 
ourselves, in relation to this very point ; and 
Paul expresses astonishment, that the Corin- 
thian Christians should have made so little 
progress in self-knowledge. " Examine your- 
selves," says he, "whether you be in the 
faith — prove your own selves — know ye not 
that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be repro- 
bates?" In judging of religious experience, it 
is all important to keep steadily in view the 
system of divine truth, contained in the Holy 
Scriptures; otherwise, our experience, as is 
too often the case, will degenerate into en- 
thusiasm. Many ardent professors, seem too 
readily to take it for granted, that all religious 
feelings must be good. They therefore take 
no care to discriminate between the genuine 
and the spurious, the pure gold and the tinsel. 
Their only concern is about the ardour of 
their feelings ; not considering, that if they are 



PREFACE. 



spurious, the more intense they are, the further 
will they lead them astray. In our day, there 
is nothing more necessary than to distinguish 
carefully between true and false experiences, 
in religion ; to " try the spirits whether they 
are of God." And in making this discrimi- 
nation, there is no other test but the infallible 
word of God ; let every thought, motive, im- 
pulse and emotion, be brought to this touch- 
stone. " To the law and the testimony ; if 
they speak not according to these, it is because 
there is no light in them." 

If genuine religious experience is nothing 
but the impression of divine truth on the 
mind, by the energy of the Holy Spirit, then 
it is evident that a knowledge of the truth is 
essential to genuine piety; error never can, 
under any circumstances, produce the effects 
of truth. This is now generally acknow- 
ledged. But it is not so clearly understood 
by all, that any defect in our knowledge of 
the truth, must, just so far as the error ex- 
tends, mar the symmetry of the impression 
produced. The error, in this case, is of course 
not supposed to relate to fundamental truths, 
for then there can be no genuine piety; but 
where a true impression is made, it may be 
rendered very defective, for w^ant of a com- 
V*e knowledge of the whole system of re- 



PREFACE. 



vealed truth ; or its beauty marred by the ex- 
istence of some errors mingled with the truth, 
which may be well illustrated by returning 
again to the seal. Suppose that some part of 
the image inscribed on it has been defaced, or 
that some of the letters have been obliterated, 
it is evident, that when the impression is made 
on the wax, there will be a corresponding de- 
ficiency or deformity, although in the main 
the impress may be correct. There is reason 
to believe, therefore, that all ignorance of re- 
vealed truth, or error respecting it, must be 
attended with a corresponding defect in the 
religious exercises of the person. This con- 
sideration teaches us the importance of truth, 
and the duty of increasing daily in the know- 
ledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 
This is the true and only method of growing 
in grace. There may be much correct theo- 
retical knowledge, I admit, where there is no 
impression corresponding with it on the heart; 
but still, all good impressions on the heart, 
are from the truth, and from the truth alone. 
Hence we find, that those denominations of 
Christians which receive the system of evan- 
gelical truth, only in part, have a defective 
experience ; and their Christian character, as 
a body, is so far defective; and even where 
true piety exists, we often find a sad mixture 



10 PREFACE. 

of enthusiasm, self-righteousness, 01 supersti 
tion. And even where the theory of doctrinal 
truth is complete, yet if there be an erroi 
respecting the terms of Christian communion 
by narrowing the entrance into Christ's fold 
to a degree which his word does not authorize 
this single error, whatever professions may be 
made to the contrary with the lips, always 
generates a narrow spirit of bigotry, which 
greatly obstructs the free exercise of that 
brotherly love w T hich Christ made the badge 
of discipleship. 

If these things be so, then let all Christians 
use unceasing diligence in acquiring a correct 
knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus ; and 
let them pray without ceasing for the influ- 
ence of the Holy Spirit, to render the truth 
effectual in the sanctification of the whole 
man, soul, body, and spirit. " Sanctify them 

THROUGH THY TRUTH, THY WORD IS TRUTH," 

was a prayer offered up by Christ, in behalf 
of all whom the Father had given him. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



The following thoughts on Religious Experi- 
ence, were, for the most part, published in 
successive numbers, in the " Watchman of 
the South," and thence transferred to several 
other papers, belonging to different denomina- 
tions ; so that they have been pretty widely 
circulated through the religious community. 
They were commenced without any view to 
their being collected into a volume ; and, in- 
deed, without any plan or purpose, in re- 
gard to the extent to which the subject would 
be pursued. They were generally written 
hastily, in such fragments of time as could be 
spared from the daily duties of an arduous 
profession, and in a state of health far from 
being perfect. This is the only apology 
which the author has to offer, for the imper- 
fections which will doubtless be found in 
them. For although he has cursorily revised 
them since the call was made for their re-pub- 
lication, in this form, yet he has made no 
alteration of any consequence. He is thank 

11 



1 2 ADVERTISEMENT. 

ful to God, that they have been made useful 
to a single soul ; and that they may he ren- 
dered still more so, is his humble prayer. He 
would, however, inform the reader that one 
third or one fourth of this volume, principally 
the latter part, has never before been pub- 
lished. 

Addendum to p. 21 — Since the above was published, an 
aged friend, who recognized the person spoken of, informed 
me that this lady, after some time spent in gayety, resumed 
her profession of religion, and until her decease exhibited good 
evidence of genuine piety. 

Addendum to p. 119. — Some time after the above account 
was published, the Rev. Robert Steel, I). L)., informed the author 
that, owing to his ignorance of certain circumstances, he had 
not done justice to .Mr. Inglis, in his account of his latter <1 
He has since learned that what he took for penariousm 
arose from anxious desire 4 to save 4 as much money from his 
scanty income, as would enable him to liquidate some debts 
which he had contracted before he was struck with blindu 
The author feels assured that his readers will be gratified 
with this explanation, as it is a gracious promise to such 
saints as live many years, "that they shall stdl bring forth fruit 
in oJa 1 ige." Psa. xcii. 11. 

A. A. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 



CHAPTER I. 

Early religious impressions — Different results — Classes of persons least 
impressed — Examples of ineffectual impressions. 

There is no necessity for any other proof of native 
depravity, than the aversion, which children early 
manifest to religious instruction and to spiritual exer- 
cises. From this cause it proceeds, that many children, 
who have the opportunity of a good religious educa- 
tion, learn scarcely any thing of the most important 
truths of Christianity. If they are compelled to com- 
mit the catechism. to memory, they are wont to do this 
without ever thinking of the doctrines contained in the 
words which they recite ; so that, when the attention 
is at any time awakened to the subject of religion, as 
a personal concern, they feel themselves to be com- 
pletely ignorant of the system of divine truth taught in 
the Bible. Yet even to these, the truths committed to 
memory are now of great utility. They are like a 
treasure which has been hidden, but is now discovered. 
Of two persons under conviction of sin, one of whom 
has had sound religious instruction, and the other none, 
the former will have an unspeakable advantage over 
the latter in many respects. 

Many children, and especially those who have pious 
parents, who speak to them of the importance of 
salvation, are the subjects of occasional religious 
impressions, of different kinds. Sometimes they are 

2 13 



14 THOUGHTS ON 

alarmed by hearing an awakening sermon, or by the 
sudden death of a companion of their own age ; or, 
again, they are tenderly affected, even to tears, from 
a consideration of the goodness and forbearance of 
God, or from a representation of the love and sui 
ings of Christ. There are also seasons of transport- 
ing joy, which some experience, especially after being 
tenderly affected with a sense of ingratitude to God 
for his wonderful goodness, in sparing them and be- 
stowing so many blessings upon them. These tran 
sient emotions of joy cannot always he easily accounted 
for, but they are commonly preceded or accompanied 
by a hope, or persuasion, that God is reconciled and 
will receive them. In some it would be thought 

that these juvenile exercises were indications of a 
change of heart, did they not pass away like the 
morning cloud, or early dew, so as even to he ohlite 
rated from the mind which experienced them. Some 
undertake to account for these religious impi 
merely from the susceptible principle of human nature, 
in connection with the external instructions of the 
word, and some striking dispensations of Provide] 
but the cause assigned is not adequate, because the 
same circumstances often exist, wh« n no such effects 
follow. Others ascribe them to the evil spirit, who is 
ever seeking to deceive and delude unwary souls, by 
inspiring them with a false persuasion of their good 
estate, while they are in the gall of bitterness and 
bonds of iniquity. Wlgle I would not deny that Satan 
may take advantage of these transient e - to 

induce a false hope, I cannot be persuaded that he 
produces these impressions; for often the persons, he- 
fore experiencing them, were as careless and stupid as 
he could wish them to be; and be the tendency 

of these impressions is salutary. The youth, thus 
affected, becomes more tender in conscience, forsakes 
known sin before indulged, has recourse to prayer, and 
feels strong desires after eternal happiness. These are 
not what Satan would effect, if he could ; unless we 
could suppose that he was operating against himself, 
which our Saviour has taught us to be impossible. I 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 15 

am of opinion, therefore, that these transient impres- 
sions should be ascribed to the common operations of 
the Spirit of God, and may have some inexplicable 
connection with the future conversion and salvation 
of the person. There is a common practical error in 
the minds of many Christians in regard to this matter. 
They seem to think that nothing has any relation to 
the conversion of the sinner, but that which imme- 
diately preceded this event ; and the Christian is ready 
to say, I was awakened under such a sermon, and 
never had rest until I found it in Christ; making 
nothing of all previous instructions and impressions. 
So, when a revival occurs under the awakening dis- 
courses of some evangelist, people are ready to think 
that he only is the successful preacher whose labours 
God owns and blesses ; whereas, he does but bring 
forward to maturity, feelings and convictions, which 
have been long secretly forming and growing within 
the soul, but so imperceptibly, that the person himself 
was little sensible of any change. It may be justly 
and scripturally compared to a growing crop : after 
the seed is sown it vegetates, we know not how, and 
then it receives daily the sun's influence, and from 
time to time, refreshing showers; but about the time 
of earing, after a long drought, there comes a plentiful 
shower, by means of which, nutriment is afforded for 
the formation of the full corn in the ear. No one will 
dispute the importance and efficacy of this last shower 
in maturing the grain; but had there been no cultiva- 
tion and no showers long before, this had never pro- 
duced any effect. 

Whether those who are never converted, are the 
subjects of these religious impressions, as well as 
those who are afterwards brought to faith in Christ, 
is a question not easily answered. That they expe- 
rience dreadful alarms and pungent convictions at 
times, and also tender drawings, cannot be doubted ; 
but whether those "chosen in Christ " are not, in their 
natural state, subject to impressions which others 
never experience, must remain undetermined, since 
we know so little of the real state of the hearts of 



16 THOUGHTS ON 

most men ; but as there is, undoubtedly, a special 
providence exercised by Christ over those sheep not 
yet called into the fold, I cannot but think it probable 
that they are often influenced by the. Holy Spirit in a 
peculiar manner, to guard them against fatal errors 
and destructive habits, and to prepare them, by de- 
grees, to receive the truth. 

We know very little, however, of what is passing 
in the minds of thousands around us. The zealous 
preacher often concludes and laments that there is no 
impression on the minds of his hearers, when, if the 
covering of the human heart could be withdrawn, 
he would be astonished and confounded at the variety 
and depth of the feelings experienced. 'Those imp 
sions which manifest themselves by a flow of t< 
are not the deepest, but often very superficial ; while 
the most awful distresses of the soul are entirely con- 
cealed by a kind of hypocrisy, which men early learn 
to practise, to hide their feelings of a religious kind 
from their fellow-creatures. A man may he so much 
in despair as to be meditating suicide, when his nearest 
friends know nothing of it. The attempt at imme- 
diate effect, and the expectation of it, is one of the 
errors of the present times; indeed, it is the very 
watch-word of a certain party. Hut let us not he 
misunderstood; we do not mean to say that all men 
are not under indispensable obligations immediately to 
obey all the commands of God. Concerning this, 
there can be no difference of opinion. Hut the per- 
sons to whom we refer seem to think that nothing 
is done towards the salvation of men, but at the mo- 
ment of their conversion, and that every good effect 
must be at once manifest. Perhaps some one may 
infer that we believe in a gradual regeneration, and 
that special grace differs from common, only in degree ; 
but such an inference would be utterly false, for there 
can be no medium between life and death ; but we do 
profess to believe and maintain, that there is a gradual 
preparation, by common grace, for regeneration, which 
may be going on from childhood to mature age ; and 
we believe that, as no mortal can tell the precise mo 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 17 

ment when the soul is vivified, and as the principle 
of spiritual life in its commencement is often very 
feeble, so it is an undoubted truth, that the develop- 
ment of the new life in the soul may be, and often is, 
very slow ; and not unfrequently that which is called 
conversion is nothing else but a more sensible and 
vigorous exercise of a principle which has long ex- 
isted. Just as the seed under ground may have life, 
and may be struggling to come forth to open day ; 
but it may meet with various obstructions and unfa- 
vourable circumstances which retard its growth. At 
length, however, it makes its way through the earth, 
and expands its leaves to the light and the air, and 
begins to drink in from every source that nutriment 
which it needs. No one supposes, however, that the 
moment of its appearing above ground is the com- 
mencement of its life ; but this mistake is often made 
in the analogous case of the regeneration of the soul. 
The first clear and lively exercise of faith and repent- 
ance is made the date of the origin of spiritual life, 
whereas it existed in a feeble state, and put forth ob- 
scure acts long before. I find, however, that I am 
anticipating a discussion intended for another part of 
this work. 

At present, I wish only to remark further, that what 
nas been said about early impressions and juvenile 
exercises of religion is not applicable to all. 

There are, alas ! many who seem to remain un- 
moved amidst all the light and means by which most 
are surrounded in this land ; and these, too, are often 
found in the families of the pious, and do actually 
pass through more than one revival without par- 
taking of any unusual influence, or experiencing any 
strong religious feeling. Esau had a title to the birth- 
right, and yet he so despised this peculiar blessing, 
that he actually sold it for " a mess of pottage. " 
Abraham, too, had his Ishmael, and Jacob a troop of 
ungodly children. Eli's sons were wicked in the 
extreme, and Samuel's came not up to what was 
expected from the children of such a father. Among 
all David's children we read of none who feared God 

2* 



18 THOUGHTS ON 

but Solomon. Those, however, who become extremely 
wicked have often resisted the strivings of the Spirit . 
and not unfrequently the most impious blasphemers 
and atheists have once been much under the influence 
of religious light and feeling ; but quenching the Spirit, 
have been given up to " believe a lie," and " to work 
all uncleanness with greediness." 

We have said that there are some persons who 
grow up to manhood without experiencing any reli- 
gious impressions, except mere momentary thoughts of 
death, and judgment ; and these may be persons of 
a very amiable disposition and moral deportment , 
and these very qualities may be, in part, the reason 
of their carelessness. They commit no gross sins, 
the remembrance of which wounds the conscience. 
Being of a calm and contented temper, and fond of 
taking their ease, they shun religious reflection, and 
turn away their thoughts from the truth, when it is 
presented to them from the pulpit. Some persons, of 
this description, have been awakened and converted, 
at mature age, and have then confessed, that they 
lived as much without Bod as atheists, and seldom, 
if ever, extended their thoughts to futurity. Of course 
they utterly neglected secret prayer, and lived in the 
midst of gospel light, without being in the least affect- 
ed by it. 

There is, moreover, another class, who seem never 
to feel the force of religious truth. They are such as 
spend their whole waking hours in the giddy whirl of 
amusement or company. Full of health and spirits, 
and sanguine in their hopes of enjoyment from the 
world, they put away serious reflection as the very 
bane of pleasure. The very name of religion is hate- 
ful to them : and all they ask of religious people is to 
let them alone, that they may seize the pleasures of life 
while within their reach. If we may judge from ap- 
pearances, this class is very large. We find them the 
majority in many places of fashionable resort. The 
theatre, the ball-room, and the very streets are full of 
such. They flutter gaily along, and keep each other 
in countenance ; while they are strangers to all grave 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. lb 

reflection, even in regard to the sober concerns of this 
life. If a pious friend ever gets the opportunity of 
addressing a word of serious advice to them, their 
politeness may prevent them from behaving rudely, 
but no sooner is his back turned, than they laugh him 
to scorn, and hate and despise him for his pains. They 
habituate themselves to think that religion is an awk- 
ward unseemly thing, and wonder how any person 
of sense can bear to attend to it. Very often this 
high reverie of pleasure is short : in such a world as 
this, events are apt to occur, which dash the cup of 
sensual delights, while it is at the lips. Death will 
occasionally intrude even upon this gay circle, and 
put a speedy end to their unreasonable merriment. 
how sad is the spectacle, to see one of the votaries 
of fashion suddenly cut down, and carried to the 
grave ! — When mortal sickness seizes such persons, 
they are very apt to be delirious, if not with fever, 
yet with fright ; and their officious but cruel friends 
make it their chief study, to bar out every idea of 
religion, and to flatter the poor dying creature with 
the hope of recovery, until death has actually seized 
his prey. Such an event produces a shock in the 
feelings of survivors of the same class, but such is 
the buoyancy of their feelings, and their forgetfulness 
of mournful events, that they are soon seen dancing 
along their slippery path, with as much insane thought- 
lessness, as before. Nothing, which ever occurs, tends 
so much to disturb the career of this multitude, as 
when one of their number is converted unto God At 
first they . are astounded, and for a moment pause, 
but they soon learn to ascribe the change to some 
natural cause, or to some strange capriciousness of 
temper, or disappointment in earthly hopes. Very 
soon you will see them as much estranged from such 
an one, although before an intimate friend, as if he 
had never been of the number of their acquaintances. 
Often his nearest relatives are ashamed of him, and 
as much as possible, shun his company. How ab 
surd then is it, for any to pretend, that men naturally 
love God, and only need to know his character to 



2U THOUGHTS ON 

revere it ! If there be a truth established beyond all 
reasonable question, by uniform experience, it is, that 
lovers of pleasure are the enemies of God. 

The class of speculating, money-making, business- 
doing men, is probably as numerous, and, though 
more sober in their thoughts, yet as far from God, and 
as destitute of religion as those already described; 
but as we find these not commonly among the youth, 
but middle aged, we shall not attempt to delineate 
their character, or describe their feelings. I must 
return to the consideration of early religious impres- 
sions which do not terminate in a sound conversion 
to God. Some five and forty years ago, I was fre- 
quently in a family where the parents, though respect- 
ers of religion, were not. professors. They had a 
sweet, amiable little daughter, eight or ten years of 
age, who had all the appearance of eminent piety. 
She loved the Bible, loved preaching and religious 
people, was uniform and constant in retiring lor devo- 
tional exercises, and spoke freely, when asked, of the 
feelings of her own mind. I think 1 never had less 
doubt of any one's piety than of this little girl's. 
There was no forwardness, nor pertness ; nor any 
assumption of sanctimonious airs. All was simplicity, 
modesty, and consistency ; she was grave but not de- 
mure ; solemn and tender in her feelings, without 
affectation. She applied for admission to the commu- 
nion — and who dare refuse entrance into the fold to 
such a dear lamb ? Here my personal acquaintance 
ends. But years afterwards, upon inquiry, I found 
that when she grew up to womanhood, she became 
gay and careless, and entirely relinquished her religious 
profession. My Methodist neighbour, I know, if he 
had the chance to whisper in my ear, would say, u I 
have no difficulty in accounting for this case ; she was 
a child of God, but fell from grace." But I have 
never been able to adopt this method of explaining 
such phenomena. There are few truths of which 1 
have a more unwavering conviction, than that the 
sheep of Christ, for whom he laid down his life, shall 
never perish. I do believe, however, that grace may 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 21 

for a season, sink so low in the heart into which it has 
entered, and be so overborne and buried up, that none 
but God can perceive its existence. Now, that may 
have been the fact in regard to this dear child ; for her 
later history is unknown to me. She may, for aught I 
know, be still alive, and be now a living, consistent 
member of Christ's Church, and may possibly peruse 
these lines, though if she should she may not recog- 
nize her own early features, taken down from memory 
after the lapse of so many years. But the picture is 
not of one person only, but of many; differing only in 
trivial circumstances. [See p. 12.] 

I retain a distinct recollection of another case of a 
still earlier date ; and where the history is more com- 
plete. An obscure youth, the son of religious parents, 
in a time of awakening, seemed to have his attention 
drawn to the concerns of his soul ; so that he seriously 
and diligently attended on all religious meetings. He 
had the appearance of deep humility; and though free 
to speak, when interrogated, was in no respect forward 
or self-sufficient. Indeed, he was scarcely known, or 
noticed, by the religious people who were in the habit 
of attending prayer meetings. It happened, that on 
an inclement evening, very few were present, and none 
of those who were accustomed to take a part in lead- 
ing the devotional exercises. The person, at whose 
house the meeting was held, not wishing to dismiss 
the few who were present, with a single prayer, asked 
this youth if he would not attempt to make a prayer. 
He readily assented, and performed this service with 
so much fervency, fluency, and propriety of expression, 
that all who heard it were astonished. From this time 
he was called upon more frequently than any other, 
and often in the public congregation ; for some people 
preferred his prayers to any sermons ; and I must say, 
that I never heard any one pray, who seemed to me to 
have such a gift of prayer. The most appropriate 
passages of Scripture seemed to come to him in rapid 
succession, as if by inspiration. Now the common 
cry was, that he ought to be taken from the trade 
which he was learning, (for he was an apprentice)— 



22 THOUGHTS ON 

and be put to study. The thing demanded by so 
many, was not difficult to accomplish. He began a 
regular course of academical studies, and his prog 
though not extraordinary, was respectable. But, alas ! 
how weak is man — how deceitful is the heart! This 
young man soon began to exhibit evidence too plain, 
that conceit and self-confidence were taking root and 
growing very rapidly. He became impatient of oppo- 
sition, arrogant towards his superiors, and unwilling 
yield to reproof administered in the most paternal 
spirit. When the time came to enter upon trials for 
the ministry, the Presbytery, to which he applied, re- 
fused to receive him under their care. ]$ut this solemn 
rebuff, instead of humbling him, only provoked his 
indignation, and, as it" in despite of them, he turned at 
once to the study of another profession, in which he 
might have succeeded had be remained moral and 
temperate in his habits; but falling into bad company, 
he became dissipated, and soon came, without any 
known reformation, to a premature' end. Now sup- 
pose this man had been permitted to enter the ministry, 
the probability is, that though his unchristian temper 
would have done much evil, yet he would have con- 
tinued in the sacred office to his dying day. kk Let him 
thai thinketh he standeth take heed text tie fait" 



CHAPTER II. 

Piety in children— Comparatively few renewed in infancy and childhood- 
Soul awakened : Ti different ways — Legal conviction not a necessary part 
of true religion — Progress of conviction. 

It is an interesting question, whether now there are 
any persons sanctified from the womb. If the com- 
munication of grace ever took place, at so early a 
period of human existence, there is no reason why it 
should not now sometimes occur. God says to Jere 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 2 3 

miah, "Before 1 formed thee in the belly, I knew thee, 
and before thou earnest forth out of the womb, I sanc- 
tified thee." And of John the Baptist, Gabriel said to 
Zacharias, his father, "And he shall be filled with the 
Holy Ghost, even from his mother's womb." The 
prophet Samuel also seems to have feared the Lord 
from his earliest childhood. In later times, cases have 
often occurred, in which eminently pious persons could 
not remember the time when they did not love the 
Saviour and experience godly sorrow for their sins; 
and, as we believe that infants may be the subjects 
of regeneration, and cannot be saved without it, why 
may it not be the fact, that some who are regenerated 
live to mature age ? I know, indeed, that many con- 
ceive that infants are naturally free from moral pollu- 
tion, and, of course, need no regeneration ; but this 
opinion is diametrically opposite to the doctrine of 
Scripture, and inconsistent with the acknowledged fact, 
that, as soon as they are capable of moral action, all 
do go astray, and sin against God. If children were 
not depraved, they would be naturally inclined to love 
God, and delight in his holy law ; but the reverse is 
true. Perhaps one reason why so few are regenerated 
at this early age is, lest some should adopt the opinion 
that grace came by nature, or that man was not cor- 
rupt from his birth. Some have opposed the idea that 
any are sanctified from their birth, for fear that mere 
moralists and those religiously educated should in- 
dulge the hope that they were born of God, although 
they have experienced no particular change, in any 
part of their lives, as far back as memory reaches. 
But, allowing that some may improperly make this 
use of the doctrine, it only proves that a sound doc- 
trine may be abused. All the doctrines of grace have 
been thus abused, and will be, as long as "the heart is 
deceitful above all things." There is, however, no 
ground for those who are still impenitent, to comfort 
themselves with the notion that they were regenerated 
in early infancy ; for piety in a child will be as mani- 
fest as in an adult, as soon as such a child comes to the 
exercise of reason ; and in some respects, more so, 



24 THOUGHTS ON 

because there are so few young children who are 
pious, and because they have more simplicity of cha 
racter, and are much less liable to play the hypocrite 
than persons of mature age. Mere decency of exter- 
nal behaviour, with a freedom from gross sins, is no 
evidence of regeneration; for these things may be 
found in many whose spirit is proud and self-righteous, 
and entirely opposite to the religion of Christ : and we 
know that outward regularity and sobriety may be 
produced by the restraints of a religious education and 
good example, where there are found none of the in- 
ternal characteristics of genuine piety. Suppose then, 
that, in a certain case, grace has been communicated 
at so early a period, that its first exercises cannot be 
remembered, what will be the evidences which we 
should expect to find of its existence? Surely, we 
ought not to look for the wisdom, judgment, and sta- 
bility of adult years, even in a pious child. We should 
expect, if I may say so, a childish piety — a simple, 
devout, and tender state of heart. As soon as such a 
child should obtain the first ideas of God, as its Creator, 
Preserver, and Benefactor, and of Christ, as its Saviour, 
who shed his blood and laid down his life for us on 
the cross, it would be piously affected with these truths, 
and would give manifest proof, that it possessed a sus- 
ceptibility of emotions and affections of heart, corre- 
sponding with the conceptions of truth which it was 
capable of taking in. Such a child would be liable to 
sin, as all Christians are, but, when made sensible of 
faults, it would manifest tenderness of conscience and 
genuine sorrow, and would be fearful of sinning after- 
wards. When taught that prayer was both a duty 
and a privilege, it would take pleasure in drawing nigh 
to God, and would be conscientious in the discharge 
of secret duties. A truly pious child would be an 
affectionate and obedient child to its parents and teach- 
ers ; kind to brothers and sisters, and indeed, to all 
other persons ; and would take a lively interest in 
hearing of the conversion of sinners, and the advance- 
ment of Christ's kingdom in the world. We ought 
not to expect from a regenerated child uniform atten- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 25 

tion to serious subjects, or a freedom from that gaiety 
and volatility which are characteristic of that tender 
age; but we should expect to find the natural propen- 
sity moderated, and the temper softened and seasoned, 
by the commingling of pious thoughts and affections 
with those which naturally flow from the infant mind. 
When such children are called, in Providence, to 
leave the world, then commonly their piety breaks 
out into a flame, and these young saints, under the 
influence of divine grace, are enabled so to speak of 
their love to Christ and confidence in him, as aston- 
ishes, while it puts to shame aged Christians. Many 
examples of this kind we have on record, where the 
evidence of genuine piety was as strong as it well 
could be. There is a peculiar sweetness, as well as 
tenderness, in these early buddings of grace. In short, 
the exercises of grace are the same in a child as in an 
adult, only modified by the peculiarities in the charac- 
ter and knowledge of a child. Indeed, many adults 
in years, who are made the subjects of grace, are 
children in knowledge and understanding, and require 
the same indulgence, in our judgments of them, as 
children in years. 

To those who cannot fix any commencement of their 
pious exercises, but who possess every other evidence 
of a change of heart, I would say, be not discouraged 
on this account, but rather be thankful that you have 
been so early placed under the tender care of the great 
Shepherd, and have thus been restrained from com- 
mitting many sins, to which your nature, as well as 
that of others, was inclined. The habitual evidences 
of piety are the same, at whatever period the work 
commenced. If you possess these, you are safe ; and 
early piety is probably more steady and consistent 
when matured by age, than that of later origin, though 
the change, of course, cannot be so evident to your- 
selves or others. 

If piety may commence at any age, how solicitous 
should parents be for their children, that God would 
bestow his grace upon them, even before they know 
their right hand from their left ; and, when about to 

3 



26 THOUGHTS ON 

dedicate them to God, in holy baptism, how earnestly 
should they pray that they might be baptized with 
the Holy Ghost — that while their bodies are washed 
in the emblematical laver of regeneration, their souls 
may experience the renewing of the Holy Ghost, and 
the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus. If the sentiments, 
expressed above, be correct, then may there be such a 
thing as baptismal regeneration; not that the mere 
external application of water can have any effect to 
purify the soul; nor that internal grace uniformly or 
generally, accompanies this external washing, but that 
God, who works when and by what means he pleases, 
may regenerate by his Spirit, the soul of the infant, 
while in his sacred name, water is applied to the body. 
And, what time in infancy is more likely to be the 
period of spiritual quickening, than the moment when 
that sacred rite is performed, which is strikingly em- 
blematical of this change? Whether it be proper to 
say that baptism may he the means of regeneration, 
depends on the sense in which the word means is 
used. If in the sense of presenting motives to the 
rational mind, as when the word is read or heard, then 
it is not a means ; for the child has no knowledge of 
what is done for it. But, if by ?nea?is, be understood 
something which is accompanied by the divine effi- 
ciency, changing the moral nature of the infant, then, 
in this sense, baptism may be called the means of 
regeneration when thus accompanied by divine grace. 
The reason why it is believed, that regeneration does 
not usually accompany baptism, is simply because no 
evidences of spiritual life appear in baptized children, 
more than in those which remain unbaptized. 

The education of children should proceed on the 
principle that they are in an unregenerate state, until 
evidences of piety clearly appear, in which case, they 
should be sedulously cherished'and nurtured. These 
are Christ's lambs — "little ones, who believe in him" 
whom none should offend or mislead upon the peril 
of a terrible punishment. But though the religious 
education of children should proceed on the ground 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 27 

that they are destitute of grace, it ought ever to be used 
as a means of grace. Every lesson, therefore, should 
be accompanied with the lifting up of the heart of the 
inst meter to God for a blessing on the means. " Sanc- 
tify them through thy truth; thy word is truth." 

Although the grace of God may be communicated 
to a human soul, at any period of its existence, in this 
world; yet the fact manifestly is, that very few are 
renewed before the exercise of reason commences; 
and not many, in early childhood. Most persons, 
with whom we have been acquainted, grew up with- 
out giving any decisive evidence of a change of heart. 
Though religiously educated, yet they have evinced 
a want of love to God, and an aversion to spiritual 
things. Men are very reluctant, it is true, to admit 
that their hearts are wicked, and at enmity with God. 
They declare that they are consc4^is of no such feel- 
ing, but still the evidence of a dislike to the spiritual 
worship of God, they cannot altogether disguise ; and 
this is nothing else but enmity to God. They might 
easily be convicted of loving the world more than 
God, the creature more than the Creator ; and we 
know that he, who will be the friend of the world, is 
the enemy of God. Let the most moral and amiable 
of mankind, who are in this natural state, be asked 
such question^ as these, Do you take real pleasure 
in perusing the sacred Scriptures, especially those 
parts which are most spiritual? Do you take delight 
in secret prayer, and find your heart drawn out to 
God, in strong desires? Do you spend much time in 
contemplating the divine attributes ? Are you in the 
habit of communing with your own hearts, and ex- 
amining the true temper of your souls? No unregene- 
rate persons can truly answer these, and such like 
questions, in the affirmative. It is evident, then, that 
most persons, whom we see around us, and with 
whom we daily converse, are in the gall of bitterness 
and bond of iniquity, and, continuing in that state, 
where Christ is they never can come. And yet, alas ! 
they are at ease in Zion ; and seem to have no fear of 



28 THOUGHTS ON 

that wrath which is coming. Their case is not only 
dangerous, but discouraging. Yet those who are now 
in a state of grace, yea, those of our race who are 
now in heaven, were once in the same condition. 
You, my reader, may now be a member of Christ's 
body, and heir of his glory; but you can easily look 
back, and remember the time, when you were as un- 
concerned about your salvation, as any of the gay, 
who are now fluttering around you. The sa 
power which arrested you, is able to stop their mad 
career. Still hope and pray for their conversion. 
But tell me, how were you brought to turn from your 
wayward, downward course? This, as it relates to 
the external means of awakening, would receive a 
great variety of answers. One would say, "While 
hearing a particular sermon, I was awakened to 
my lost estate, and wicvur found rest or peace until I 
was enabled to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.' 1 
Another would answer, "I was brought to consider- 
ation, by the solemn and pointed conversation of a 
pious friend, who sought my salvation." Whil 
third would answer, " I was led to serious considera- 
tion, by having the hand of God laid heavily upon me, 
in some affliction." In regard to many, the answer 
would be, that their minds were gradually led to 
serious consideration, they scarcely know how. Now, 
in regard to these external means or circumstances, it 
matters not, whether the attention was arrested, and 
the conscience awakened, by this or that means, 
gradually or suddenly. Neither do these things at all 
assist in determining the nature of the effect produced. 
All who ever became pious must have begun with 
serious consideration, whatever means were employed 
to produce this state of mind. But all who, for a sea 
son, become serious, are not certainly converted. 
There may be solemn impressions and deep awaken- 
ings which never terminate in a saving change, but 
end in some delusion, or the person returns again to 
his old condition, or rather to one much worse ; for it 
may be laid down as a maxim, that religious impres- 
sions opposed, leave the soul in a more hardened state 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 29 

than before ■ just as iron, heated and then ^oered, be- 
comes hardei. In general, those impressions which 
come on gradually, without any unusual means, are 
more permanent than those which are produced by 
circumstances of a striking and alarming nature. But 
even here there is no general rule. The nature of the 
permanent effects is the only sure criterion. " By their 
fruits ye shall know them/' 

That conviction of sin is a necessary part of ex- 
perimental religion, all will admit; but there is one 
question respecting this matter, concerning which 
there may be much doubt ; and that is, whether a 
law-work, prior to regeneration, is necessary ; or, 
whether all true and salutary conviction is not the 
effect of regeneration. I find that a hundred years 
ago, this was a matter in dispute between the two 
parties, into which the Presbyterian church was divi- 
ded, called the old and new side. The Tennents and 
Blairs insisted much on the necessity of conviction of 
sin, by the law, prior to regeneration ; while Thompson 
and his associates were of opinion, that no such work 
was necessary, nor should be insisted on. As far as 
I know, the opinion of the necessity of legal convic- 
tion has generally prevailed in all our modern revi- 
vals : and it is usually taken for granted, that the con- 
victions experienced are prior to regeneration. But 
it would be very difficult to prove from Scripture, or 
from the nature of the case, that such a preparatory 
work was necessary. Suppose an individual to be, 
in some certain moment, regenerated ; such a soul 
would begin to see with new eyes, and his own sins 
would be among the things first viewed in a new 
light. He would be convinced, not only of the fact 
that they were transgressions of the law, but he would 
also see, that they were intrinsically evil, and deserved 
the punishment to which they exposed him. It is 
only such a conviction as this that really prepares a 
soul to accept of Christ in all his offices; not only as a 
Saviour from wrath, but from sin. And it can scarcely 
be believed, that that clear view of the justice of God, 
in their condemnation, which most persons sensibly ex* 

3 * 



^0 THOUGHTS ON 

perience, is the fruit of a mere legal conviction, on an 
unregenerate heart. For this view of God's justice 
is not merely of the fact, that this is his character, but 
of the divine excellency of his attributes, which is 
accompanied with admiration of it, and a feeling of ac- 
quiescence or submission. This view is sometimes so 
clear, and the equity and propriety of punishing sin are 
so manifest, and the feeling of acquiescence so strong, 
that it has laid the foundation for the very absurd 
opinion, that the true penitent is made willing to be 
damned for the glory of God. When such a convic- 
tion as this is experienced, the soul is commonly nigh 
to comfort, although at the moment it is common to 
entertain the opinion, that there is no salvation for it. 
It is wonderful, and almost unaccountable, how calm 
the soul is in the prospect of being for ever lost. An 
old lady of the Baptist denomination was the first 
person I ever heard give an account of Christian 
experience, and I recollect that she said that she was 
so deeply convinced that she should be lost, that she 
began to think how she should feel and be exercised 
in hell; and it occurred to her, that all in that horrid 
placft were employed in blaspheming the name i)( 
God. The thought of doing so was rejected with 
abhorrence, and she felt as if she must and would love 
him, even there, for his goodness to her; for she - 
that she alone was to blame for her destruction, and 
that He could, in consistence with his character, do 
nothing else but inflict this punishment on her. Now 
surely her heart was already changed, although not a 
ray of comfort had dawned upon her mind. But is 
there not before this, generally, a rebellious rising 
against God, and a disposition to find fault with his 
dealings? It may be so in many cases, but this feel- 
ing is far from being as universal as some suppose. 
As far as the testimony of pious people can be de- 
pended on, there are many whose first convictions are 
of the evil of sin, rather than of its danger, and who 
feel real compunction of spirit for having committed 
it, accompanied with a lively sense of their ingratitude. 
This question, however, is not of any great practical 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 31 

importance ; but there are some truly pious persons 
who are distressed and perplexed, because they never 
experienced that kind of conviction which they hear 
others speak of, and the necessity of which is insisted 
on by some preachers. Certainly that which the 
reprobate may experience — which is not different 
from what all the guilty will feel at the day of judg- 
ment — cannot be a necessary part of true religion ; 
and yet it does appear to be a common thing for 
awakened persons to be at first under a mere legal 
conviction. 

Though man, in his natural state, is spiritually 
dead, that is, entirely destitute of any spark of true 
holiness, yet is he still a reasonable being, and has a 
conscience by which he is capable of discerning the 
difference between good and evil, and of feeling the 
force of moral obligation. By having his sins brought 
clearly before his mind, and his conscience awakened 
from its stupor, he can be made to feel what his true 
condition is as a transgressor of the holy law of God. 
This sight and sense of sin, under the influence of the 
common operations of the Spirit of God, is what is 
usually styled conviction of sin. And there can be 
no doubt that these views and feelings may be very 
clear and strong in an unrenewed mind. Indeed, 
they do not differ in kind from what every sinner will 
experience at the day of judgment, when his own 
conscience will condemn him, and he will stand guilty 
before his judge. But there is nothing in this kind of 
conviction which has any tendency to change the 
heart, or to make it better. Some indeed have main- 
tained, with some show of reason, that under mere 
legal conviction, the sinner grows worse and worse ■ 
and certainly he sees his sins to be greater in propor- 
tion as the light of truth increases. There is not, 
therefore, in such convictions, however clear and 
strong, any approximation to regeneration. It cannot 
be called a preparatory work to this change, in the 
sense of disposing the person to receive the grace of 
God. The only end which it can answer is to show 
the rational creature his true condition, and to con 



32 THOUGHTS ON 

vince the sinner of his absolute need of a Saviour 
Under conviction there is frequently a more sensible 
rising of the enmity of the heart against God and his 
law; but feelings of this kind do not belong to the 
essence of conviction. There is also sometimes an 
awful apprehension of danger; the imagination is fill- 
ed with strong images of terror, and hell seems almost 
uncovered to the view of the convinced sinner. Bui 
there may be much of this feeling of terror, where 
there is very little real conviction of sin ; and on the 
other hand, there often is deep and permanent convic- 
tion, where the passions and imagination are very little 
excited. 

When the entrance of light is gradual, the first ef- 
fect of an awakened conscience is. to attempt to rec- 
tify what now appears to have been wrong in the 
conduct. It is very common lor the conscience, at 
first, to be affected with outward nets of transg 
sion, and especially with some one prominent offence. 
An external reformation is now begun: tor this can 
be effected by mere legal conviction. To this is added 
an attention to the external duties o\ religion, such 
as prayer, reading the Bible, hearing the word, &c. 
Every thing, however, is done with a legal spirit; 
that is, with the wish and expectation of making 
amends for • past offences; and if painful penances, 
should be prescribed to the sinner, he will readily 
submit to them if he may, by this means, make some 
atonement for his sins. But as the light increases, he 
begins to see that his heart is wicked; and to be con- 
vinced that his very prayers are polluted for want of 
right motives and affections. He, of course, tries to 
regulate his thoughts, and to exercise right affections ; 
but here his efforts prove fruitless. It is much easier 
to reform the life than to bring the corrupt heart into 
a right, state. The case now begins to appear despe- 
rate, and the sinner knows not which way to turn 
for relief, and, to cap the climax of his distress, he 
comes at length to be conscious of nothing but un- 
yielding hardness of heart. He fears that the con- 
viction which he seemed to have, is gone, and that ho 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 33 

is left to total obduracy. In these circumstances he 
desires to feel keen compunction, and overwhelming 
terror, for his impression is, that he is entirely without 
conviction. The truth, however, is, that his convic- 
tions are far greater, than if he experienced that sen- 
sible distress which he so much courts. In this case, 
he would not think his heart so incurably bad, because 
it could entertain some right feeling, but as it is, he 
sees it to be destitute of every good emotion, and of 
all tender relentings. He has got down to the core of 
iniquity, and finds within his breast a heart unsuscep- 
tible of any good thing. Does he hear that others 
have obtained relief by hearing such a preacher, read- 
ing such a book, conversing with some experienced 
Christian? he resorts to the same means, but entirely 
without effect. The heart seems to become more in- 
sensible, in proportion to the excellence of the means 
enjoyed. Though he declares he has no sensibility of 
any kind, yet his anxiety increases; and perhaps he 
determines to give himself up soJely to prayer and 
reading the Bible ; and if he perish, to perish seeking 
for mercy. But however strong such resolutions may 
be, they are found to be in vain; for now, when he at- 
tempts to pray, he finds his mouth as it were shut. 
He cannot pray. He cannot read. He cannot medi- 
tate. What can he do ? Nothing. He has come to 
the end of his legal efforts ; and the result has been, 
the simple, deep conviction that he can do nothing ; 
and if God does not mercifully interpose, he must in- 
evitably perish. During all this process he has some 
idea of his need of divine help ; but until now, he 
was not entirely cut off from all dependence on his 
own strength and exertions. He still hoped that, by 
some kind of effort or feeling, he could prepare him- 
self for the mercy of God. Now he despairs of this, 
and not only so, but for a season he despairs, it may 
be, of salvation — gives himself up for lost. I do not 
say, that this is a necessary feeling, by any means, 
but I know that it is very natural, and hy no means un- 
common, in real experience. But conviction having 
accomplished all that it is capable of effecting, that is, 



34 THOUGHTS ON 

having emptied the creature of self-dependence and 
self-righteousness, and brought him to the utmost ex- 
tremity — even to the borders of despair, it is time for 
God to work. The proverb says, " Man's extremity 
is God's opportunity:" so it is in this case; and at this 
time, it may reasonably be supposed, the work of re- 
generation is wrought; for a new state of feeling 
now experienced. Upon calm reflection, God ap- 
pears to have been just and good in all his dispensa- 
tions; the blame of its perdition the soul fully takes 
upon itself; acknowledges its ill-desert, and acquits 
God. " Against thee, thee only, have 1 sinned and 
done this evil in thy sight, that thou mightest be justi- 
fied when thou speakest, and be clear when thou. 
judgest." The sinner resigns himself into the hands 
of God ; and yet is convinced that if he does perish, 
he will sutler only what his sins deserve, lie does 
not fully discover the glorious plan according to which 
God can be just and the justilier of the ungodly who 
believe in Jesus Christ. 

The above is not given as a course of experience 
which all real Christians can recognize as their own, 
but as a train of exercises which is very common. 
And as I do not consider legal conviction as necessary 
to precede regeneration, hut suppose there are cases 
in which the first serious impressions may he the ef- 
fect of regeneration, 1 cannot, of course, consider any 
particular train of exercises under the law as essen- 
tial. It has been admitted, however, that legal con- 
viction does in fact take place in most instances, prior 
to regeneration ; and it is not an unreasonable inquiry, 
why is the sinner thus awakened ? What good pur- 
pose'Moes it answer? The reply has been already 
partially given ; but it may be remarked, that God 
deals with man as an accountable, moral agent, and 
before he rescues him from the ruin into which he is 
sunk, he would let him see and feel, in some measure, 
how wretched his condition is; how helpless he is in 
himself, and how ineffectual are his most strenuous 
efforts to deliver him from his sin and misery. He 
is, therefore, permitted to try his own wisdom and 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 35 

strength. And finally, God designs to lead him to the 
full acknowledgment of his own guilt, and to justify the 
righteous Judge who condemns him to everlasting tor- 
ment. Conviction, then, is no part of a sinner's salva- 
tion, but the clear practical knowledge of the fact that 
he cannot save himself, and is entirely dependent on 
the saving grace of God. 



CHAPTER III. 

The new birth an event of great importance.— -The evidences of the new 
biith— Diversities of experience in converts. — Examples. — Causes of 
dnersity. 

There is no more important event, which occurs in 
our world, than the new birth of an immortal soul. 
Heirs to titles and estates, to kingdoms and empires, 
are frequently born, and such events are blazoned 
with imposing pomp, and celebrated by poets and 
orators; but what are all these honours and posses- 
sions but the gewgaws of children, when compared 
with the inheritance and glory to which every child 
of God is born an heir! But this ]^ing a birth from 
above, and all the blessings and privileges of the 
young heir, of a hidden and spiritual nature, the 
world around cannot be expected to take a lively in- 
terest in the event. It is with the children of God as 
with the divine Saviour; "the world knoweth them 
not, as it knew him not." The night on which He 
was born, there was a great crowd of the descendants 
of David, collected from every part of the Holy land, 
where they were scattered abroad ; but none of all 
these knew that a Saviour was born that night. Yet 
the angels celebrated the event in a truly celestial 
hymn, and announced the glad tidings to a company 
of simple shepherds, who were watching their flocks 
in the open field. So these celestial inhabitants, the 
messengers of God, take a lively interest still in events 



36 THOUGHTS ON 

in which a gay and ungodly world feel no concern 
For " there is joy in the presence of the angels of God 
over one sinner that repenteth." How they know 
certainly when a soul is born to God, we need not 
inquire; for they have faculties and sources of know- 
ledge, unknown to us. We know that "they are all 
ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who 
shall b * heirs of salvation ;" but how they carry on 
their ministry we cannot tell. If the evil spirit can 
inject evil thoughts into our minds, why may not good 
spirits suggest pious thoughts, or occasionally make 
sudden impressions for our warning, or change, by 
some means, the train of our thoughts? No doubt 
the devil soon learns the fact, when a sinner is con- 
verted unto God; lor he has then Lost a subject, and, 
perhaps, no conversion ever lakes place, which he 
does not use every effort to prevent. 

Hut, to return to our subject, the 4 implantation of 
spiritual life in a soul dead in sin, is an event, the 
consequences of which will never end. When you 
plant an acorn, and it grows, you expect not to see the 
maturity, much less the end of the majestic oak, which 
will expand its boughs and strike deeply into the earth 
its roots. The fierce blast of centuries of winters may 
beat upon it and agitate it; but it resists them all. Yet 
finally this inajt#tie oak, and all its towering branches, 
must fall. Trees die with old age, as well as men. 
But the plants of grace shall ever live. They shall 
flourish in everlasting verdure. They will bear trans- 
planting to another clime — to another world. They 
shall bloom and bear fruit in the paradise of God. At 
such an hour one is born in Zion unto God. Few 
know it — few care for the event, or consider it of 
much importance. But, reader, this feeble germ — 
this incipient bud, will go on to grow and flourish for 
infinitely more years than there are sands upon the 
sea-shore. To drop the figure. This renewed soul 
will be seen and known among the saints in heaven, 
and assisting in the never-ceasing songs of those who 
surround the throne of God and the Lamb, millions of 
ages hereafter. Pure and holy shall it be — « without 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 37 

spot or wrinkle or any such thing." Bright as an 
angel, and as free from moral taint — but still distin- 
guished from those happy beings, to whom it is equal, 
by singing a song in which they can never join — in 
wearing robes made white in the blood of the Lamb ; 
and claiming a nearer kindred to the Son of God, than 
Gabriel himself. Can that event be of small moment, 
which lays a foundation for immortal bliss ? — for eter- 
nal life ? 

Let us, then, patiently and impartially inquire into 
some of the circumstances and evidences of the new 
birth. And here I cannot but remark, that among 
all the preposterous notions which a new and crude 
theology has poured forth so profusely, in our day, 
there is none more absurd, than that a dead sinnei 
can beget new life in himself. The very idea A a 
man's becoming his own father in the spiritual re- 
generation, is as unreasonable as such a supposition 
in relation to our first birth. Away with all such 
soul-destroying, God-dishonouring sentiments. " Which 
were born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, 
nor of the will of man, but of God" — " Born of the 
Spirit" — " And you hath HE quickened who were 
dead in trespasses and sins." But who can trace the 
work of the Spirit in this wonderful renovation ? Can 
we tell how our bones and sinews were formed in 
our mothers' wombs ? Surely, then, there must be 
mystery in the second birth. As our Lord said to 
Nicodemus when discoursing on this very subject: "If 
I have told you earthly things, and ye believe not, 
how shall ye believe if I tell you of heavenly things?" 
" The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest 
the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, 
and whither it goeth." 

There are, doubtless, great diversities in the appear- 
ances of the motions and actings of spiritual life in its 
incipient stages. 

The agent is the same — the deadness of the subject 
the same — the instrument the same, ana the nature of 
the effect the same, in every case. But still, there are 
many differing circumstances, which cause a great 

4 



38 THOUGHTS ON 

variety in appearance and expression ; such as the 
degree of vigour in the principle of life communicated 
I know, indeed, that there are some who entertain 
the opinion, that the new creature as it comes from 
the hand of God — if I may so speak — is in all respects 
identical or of equal value. But this is not the fact. 
There is as much difference in the original vigour of 
spiritual as of natural life. Now, who does not per- 
ceive, what a remarkable difference this will make in 
all the actings and external exhibitions of this princi- 
ple ? As in nature, some children as soon as born are 
active and vigorous and healthy, and let all around 
know quickly that they are alive and have Strong 
feeling too ; whereas others come into the world with 
so feeble a spark of life, that it can hardly be discerned 
whether they breathe or have any pulsation in their 
heart and arteries; and when it is ascertained that 
they live, the principle of vitality is so wreak, and sur- 
rounded with so many untoward circumstances and 
symptoms, that there is a small prospect of the infant 
reaching maturity; — just so it is, in the new birth. 
Some ;ire brought at once into the clear light of day. 
They come "out of darkness into the marvellous light 99 
of the gospel. "Old things are" consequently "passed 
away, and all things are become new," The change 
is most obvious and remarkable. They are as if in- 
troduced into a new world. The Sun of righteous- 
ness has ristM) upon them, without an intervening 
cloud. Their perception of divine things is so new 
and so clear, that they feel persuaded that they can 
convince others, and cause them to see and feel as 
they do. Indeed, they wonder why they did not 
always see things in this li^ht, and thev do not know 
why others do not see them as they do. Such per- 
sons can no more doubt of their conversion than of 
their existence. Such a case was that of Saul of 
Tarsus. Such also was the case of Col. Gardiner. 
Now this bright day may be clouded over, or it may 
not. In the case of the two persons mentioned, there 
does not seem ever to have arisen a passing cloud t< 
create a doubt whether indeed they had been brough. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 39 

to enjoy the light of a heavenly day. But many a 
day which begins with an unclouded sun, is deformed 
by dark and lowering clouds, and even agitated with 
tremendous storms, before it closes. So it may be in 
the spiritual life. Some commence their pilgrimage 
under the most favourable auspices, and seem to 
stand so firmly on the mount, that they are ready to 
say, "I shall never be moved." Yet when their Lord 
hides his face, they are soon troubled; and may long 
walk in darkness, and enjoy no light or comfort. And 
commonly this change is brought about by our own 
spiritual pride and carelessness. 

The opinion commonly entertained, that the most 
enormous sinners are the subjects of the most pungent 
convictions of sin, and the most alarming terrors of 
hell, is not correct. In regard to such, the commence- 
ment of a work of grace is sometimes very gradual, 
and the impressions so apparently slight, that they 
afford very little ground of sanguine expectations of 
the result. While, on the other hand, some persons 
of an unblemished moral character, and who, from 
the influence of a religious education, have always 
respected religion, and venerated its ordinances, when 
brought under conviction, are more terribly alarmed 
and more overwhelmed with distress, than others 
whose lives have been stained by gross crimes. The 
Rev. John Newton, when awakened to some sense 
of his sinful and dangerous condition, which occurred 
during a violent and long continued storm at sea, 
though his judgment was convinced that he was the 
greatest of sinners, and he doubted whether it was 
possible for him to be saved ; yet seems to have had 
no very deep feelings or agitating fears. He says, 
" It was not till after, perhaps, several years, that I 
had gained some clear views of the infinite righteous- 
ness and grace of Christ Jesus my Lord, that I had a 
deep and strong apprehension of my state by nature 
and practice ; and perhaps till then I could not have 
borne the sight ; so wonderfully does the Lord pro- 
portion the discoveries of sin and grace. For he knows 
our frame, and that if he were to put forth the great 



10 THOUGHTS ON 

ness of his power, a poor sinner would be instantly 
overwhelmed, and crushed as a moth." And, though 
from this time there was a sensible change, and liis 
mind was turned towards religion, yet it is evident 
from the history of his life, as well as his experiences 
afterwards, that grace existed during several y« 
in the feeblest state of which we can well conceive. 
It appeared so much so to himself, that he warns all 
persons from considering his experience a model for 
them. " As to myself," says he, " every part of my 
case has been extraordinary — I have hardly met a 
single instance resembling it. Few, very few have 
been rescued from such a dreadful state, and th 
few that have been thus favoured, have generally 
passed through the most severe convictions; and, 
after the Lord lias given them peace, their future Uvea 
have been usually more zealous, bright, and exem- 
plary than common." Now this is the opinion which 
I think, is taken up rather from theory than an ob- 
servation of facts. I think that those pbfSOHS, who 
have been most conversant with exercised souls will 
say that there is no general rule here — that very pun- 
gent convictions and deep distress are found as fre- 
quently in those who have been preserved from out- 
breaking transgressions, as in those noted for their 
immoralities. There seems, indeed, more reason for 
severe convictions in the latter case; but convictions 
are not uniformly proportioned to the magnitude of 
crimes. And in truth, we are incapable of comparing 
together the heinousness of the sins of different per- 
sons. The moral man, as we call him, may be the 
greater sinner of the two, when weighed in the bal- 
ances of the sanctuary. I heard a popular preacher 
once undertake to prove, that moral men and formal 
professors must, in all cases, be far more wicked than 
the blaspheming infidel, and gross debauchee. The 
argument was plausible, but laboured under one es- 
sential defect; and I was of opinion, and still am, that 
such a doctrine is highly dangerous, and calculated to 
encourage men to go to all lengths in wickedness. 
VVher I was a very young preacher, I expressed the 



RELIGIONS EXPERIENCE. 41 

opinion, in a sermon preached in North Carolina, that 
the mere moralist and formalist were more out of the 
way of conviction than the openly profane. When 
the sermon was ended, a fierce looking man came up 
to me and said that I had delivered precisely his 
opinion on one point, and mentioned the above senti- 
ment. I inquired, when he was gone, who he was, 
and found that he was the most notorious profligate 
"in all the country; and not long afterwards he was 
apprehended and imprisoned, at the head of a com- 
pany engaged in felonious acts This taught me a 
lesson which I never forgot. Mr. Newton proceeds 
thus : " Now, as, on the one hand, my convictions were 
very moderate, and far below what might have been 
expected from the dreadful review I had to make ; 
so, on the other, my first beginnings in a religious 
course were as faint as can well be imagined. I never 
knew that season alluded to, Revelation ii. 4, usually 
called the time of " first love." And then he relates 
facts which give sad evidence of a very low state of 
grace ; and, if it had never risen higher, we should 
certainly have been inclined to believe that he was not 
a subject of saving grace. But this leads me to re- 
mark a fact analogous to what is common in the 
natural world ; tnat the infant which, when born, 
barely gives evidence of life, may not only grow to 
maturity, but in size and strength may far exceed 
those who commenced life with more activity and 
vigour ; and so in the spiritual life, when the incipient 
motions and affections are very feeble, the person may 
eventually become a mature and eminent Christian, as 
we have no doubt Mr. Newton did. Another instance 
of a similar kind, if my memory serves me, was the 
Rev. Mr. Cecil, who had also been, for many years, 
a profane infidel ; but who, in process of time, be- 
came one of the most eminent Christians, as well 
as spiritual ministers of his day. Dr. Thomas Scott, 
also, was a Socinian, and yet a preacher in the es- 
tablished Church ; but the progress of illumination 
and conviction in his mind was very gradual. His 
"Force of Truth" is an admirable little work, and 

4* 



12 THOUGHTS ON 

furnishes a full illustration of the sentiment which 1 
wish to inculcate : That grace, in the commencement, 
is often exceedingly faint and feeble, and yet may 
grow into a state of maturity and comparative per- 
fection. 

In the experience of President Edwards, as re- 
corded by himself, we find no account of any deep 
and distressing convictions of sin at the commence- 
ment of his religious course ; though, afterwards, 
perhaps few. men ever attained to such humbling 
views of the depth and turpitude of the depravity 
of the heart. But his experience differs from that of 
those mentioned above, in that his first views of divine 
things were clear and attended with unspeakable de- 
light, "The first instance that I remember of that 
sort of inward, secret delighl in God and divine things, 
that I have lived much in since, was. on reading tl- 
words, 1 Tim. i. 17, 'Now, unto the King eternal, 
immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and 
glory, for ever and ever, Amen. 1 As I read these 
words, there came into my soul, and was as it w 
diffused through it, a sense of the glory of the Divine 
Being; a new sense, quite different from anything I 
ever experienced before. Never any words of Scrip- 
ture seemed to me as those words did. I thought 
with myself, how excellent a Being that was. and how 
happy I should be, if I might enjoy that God, and be 
rapt up to him in heaven, ami be as it were swallowed 
up in him for ever." " From that time I began to 
have a new kind of apprehensions and ideas of Christ, 
and the work of redemption, and the glorious way of 
salvation by him. An inward, sweet sense of these 
things, at times, came into my heart; and my soul 
was led away in pleasant views and contemplations 
of them. After this, my sense of divine things gra- 
dually increased, and became more and more lively, 
and had more of that inward sweetness. The appear- 
ance of every thing was altered. There seemed to 
be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast or appearance of 
divine glory, in almost every thing. God's excel 
*ency, his wisdom, his purity, and his love seemed to 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 43 

appear in every thing." The difference between this 
and many other cases of incipient piety, is very 
striking. And yet these views and exercises do not 
come up to the standard which some set up in regard 
to Christian experience, because they are so abstract, 
and have such casual reference to Christ, through 
whom alone God is revealed to man as an object of 
saving faith. And if there be a fault in the writings 
of this great and good man on the subject of experi- 
mental religion, it is, that they seem to represent re- 
newed persons as at the first, occupied with the con- 
templation of the attributes of God with delight, 
without ever thinking of a Mediator. But few men 
ever attained, as we think, higher degrees of holiness, 
or had made more accurate observations on the exer- 
cises of others. His work on the Affections is too 
abstract and tedious for common readers ; but it is an 
excellent work, although I think his twelve marks 
might with great advantage be reduced to half the 
number, on his own plan. The experimental exer- 
cises of religion are sure to take their complexion from 
the theory of doctrine entertained, or which is incul- 
cated at the time. 

The variety which appears in the exercises of real 
converts does not depend alone on the different de- 
grees of vigour, in the principle of spiritual life, but on 
many other circumstances; some of which will now 
be noticed. The benefit of sound doctrinal instruc- 
tion to the new-born soul has already been mention- 
ed, but demands a more particular consideration. 
What degree of knowledge is absolutely necessary to 
the existence of piety cannot be accurately determin- 
ed by man, but we know that genuine faith may con- 
sist with much ignorance and error. Suppose two 
persons, then, to have received the principle of spirit 
ual life in equal vigour, but let the one be ignorant 
and the other well instructed ; it is easy to see what 
a difference this will make in the exercises of the two 
converts ; and also in the account which they are able 
respectively to give to others of the work of grace on 
their hearts. It is here taken for granted, that no- 



4«i THOUGHTS ON 

thing but divine truth can be the object of holy affec- 
tions, or furnish the motives from which true Chris- 
tians are bound to act; and that faith in all its actings 
has respect to revealed truth. But that which is un- 
known can neither be the object of faith or love, and 
that which is known obscurely, and viewed indistinct 
ly, can never operate with the same effect as that 
which is clearly understood. Accordingly, our mis- 
sionaries inform us, that we ought not to expect the 
same consistency or maturity in the religion of real 
converts from heathenism, as from religiously edu- 
cated persons in our own country. It is a lamentable 
fact that m this land of churches and of Bibles, there 
.-ire many who know little more of the doctrines of 
Christianity, than the pagans themselves. The pro- 
per inference from the fact stated is, that they are 
egregiously in error, who think that the religious edu- 
cation of children, is useless, or even injurious; and 
their opinion is also condemned who maintain that it 
matters little what men believe provided their lives 
are upright. All good conduct must proceed from 
good principles; hut good principles cannot exist 
without a knowledge of the truth. "Truth is in 
order to holiness ;" and bet wren truth and holiness 
there is an indissoluble connexion. It would be 
reasonable to expect a child born into an atmosphere 
corrupted with pestilential vapour, to grow and be 
healthy, as that spiritual life should flourish without 
the nutriment of the pure milk of the word, and 
without breathing in the wholesome atmosphere of 
truth. The new man often remains in a dwarfish 
state, because he is fed upon husks ; or, he grows in- 
to a distorted shape by means of the errors which are 
inculcated upon him. It is of unspeakable import- 
ance that the young disciple have sound, instructive, 
and practical preaching to attend on. It is also of 
consequence that the religious people, with whom he 
converses, should be discreet, evangelical, and intelli- 
gent Christians ; and that the books put into his hands 
should be of the right kind. There is what may be 
called a sectarian peculiarity in the experimental reh 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 45 

gion of all the members of a religious denomination 
When it is required, in order that persons be admitted 
to commuion, that they publicly give a narrative of 
the exercises of their minds, there will commonly be 
observed a striking similarity. There is a certain 
mould into which all seem to be cast. By the way, 
this requisition is unwise ; few persons have humility 
and discretion enough to be trusted to declare in a 
public congregation, what the dealings of God with 
their souls have been. When ignorant, weak, and 
fanciful persons undertake this, they often bring out 
such crude and ludicrous things, as greatly tend to 
bring experimental religion into discredit. The prac- 
tice seems also to be founded on a false principle, 
namely, that real Christians are able to tell with cer- 
tainty whether others have religion, if they hear their 
experience. Enthusiasts have always laid claim to this 
discernment of the spirits, and this enthusiasm is widely 
spread through some large sects ; and when they meet 
with any professing piety, they are always solicitous 
to hear an account of their conviction, conversion, &c. 
A free intercourse of this kind among intimate friends, 
is no doubt, profitable; but a frequent and indiscrimi 
nate disclosure of these secret things of the heart, is 
attended with many evils. Among the chief is, the 
fostering of spiritual pride, which may often be de- 
tected when the person is boasting of his humility. 
In those social meetings, in which every person is 
questioned as to the state of his soul, the very 
sameness of most of the answers ought to render the 
practice suspicious. Poor, weak, and ignorant per- 
sons, often profess to be happy, and to be full of the 
love of God, when they know not what they say. It 
is wonderful how little you hear of the spiritual con- 
flict in the account which many professors give of their 
experience. The people know what kind of answers 
is expected of them, and they come, as iit,ar as they 
can to what is wished ; and it is to be feared that 
many cry "peace/' when there is no peace ; and say 
that they are happy, merely because they hear this 
from the lips of others. Hypocrisy is a fearful evil. 



46 THOUGHTS ON 

and every thing which has a tendency to produce it 
should be avoided. Among some classes of religious 
people, all doubting about the goodness and safety 
of our state is scouted as inconsistent with faith. 
It is assumed as indubitably true, that every Christian 
must be assured of his being in a state of grace, 
and they have no charity for those who are distressed 
with almost perpetual doubts and fears. This they 
consider to be the essence of unbelief; for faith, ac- 
cording to them, is a full persuasion that our sins are 
forgiven. No painful process of self-examination is 
therefore requisite, for every believer has possession 
already of all that could be learned from such exam- 
ination. Among others, doubting, it is to be feared, 
is too much encouraged; and serious Christians are 
perplexed with needless scruples originating in the 
multiplication of the marks of conversion, which some- 
times are difficult of application, and, in other cases, 
are not scriptural, but arbitrary, set up by the preacher 
who values himself upon his skill in detecting the 
close hypocrite, whereas he wounds the weak be- 
liever, in ten cases, where he awakens the hypocrite 
in one. I once heard one of these preachers, whose 
common mode was harsh, and calculated to disti 
the feeble minded, attempt to preach in a very dif- 
ferent style. He seemed to remember that he should 
not " bruise the broken reed," nor " quench the smok- 
ing flax." A person of a contrite spirit heard the 
discourse with unusual comfort, but at the close the 
preacher resumed his usual harsh tone, and said, 
" Now you hypocrites will be snatching at the chil- 
dren's bread." On hearing which, the broken-hearted 
hearer felt himself addressed, and instantly threw 
away all the comfort which he had received. And 
though there might be a hundred hypocrites present, 
yet not one of them cared any thing about the admo- 
nition. 

In some places, anxious inquirers are told that, 
if they will hold on praying and using the means, 
God is bound to save them ; as though a dead, con- 
demned sinner could so pray as to bring God under 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 47 

obligation to him, or could secure the blessings of the 
covenant of grace, by his selfish, legal striving. These 
instructions accord very much with the self-righteous 
spirit which is naturally in us all ; and one of two 
things may be expected to ensue, either that the anxious 
inquirer will conclude that he has worked out his sal- 
vation, and cry peace ; or that he should sink into dis- 
couragement and charge God foolishly, because He does 
not hear his prayers, and grant him his desires. There 
is another extreme, but not so common among us. It 
is, to tell the unconverted, however anxious, not to 
pray at all — that their prayers are an abomination to 
God, and can answer no good purpose, until they are 
able to pray in faith. The writer happened once to be 
cast into a congregation where this doctrine was incul- 
cated, at the time of a considerable revival, when many 
sinners were cut to the heart, and were inquiring, what 
must we do to be saved ? He conversed with some 
who appeared to be under deep and awful convictions, 
but they were directed to use no means, but to believe, 
and they appeared to remain in a state of perfect qui- 
escence, doing nothing, but confessing the justice of 
their condemnation, and appearing to feel that they 
were entirely at the disposal of Him, who " has mercy 
on whom he will have mercy." The theory, however, 
was not consistently carried out, for while these persons 
were taught not to pray, they were exhorted to hear 
the gospel, and were frequently conversed with by 
their pastor. But this extreme is not so dangerous as 
the former, which encourages sinners to think that they 
can do something to recommend themselves to God, by 
their unbelieving prayers. The fruits of this revival, I 
have reason to believe, were very precious. Even 
among the same people and under the same minister, 
the exercises of the awakened in a revival are very 
different. In some seasons of this sort, the work ap- 
pears to be far deeper and more solemn than in others 



48 THOUGHTS ON 



CHAPTER IV. 

Causes of diversity in experience continued.— Effect of temperament- 
Melancholy.— Advice to the friends of persons thus affected. — Subjec 
continued. — Illustrative cases. — Causes of melancholy and insanity. 

We have before shown how the principle of spirit- 
ual life is affected in its appearance by two cir- 
cumstances — the degree of vigour given to it in its 
commencement, and the degree of knowledge and 
maturity of judgment which one may possess above 
another. We now come to another pregnant cause 
of the great variety which is found in the exer< 
and comforts of real Christians, and that is the differ- 
ence of temperament which is so familiar, and which 
so frequently modifies the characters, as well as the 
feelings of men in other matters. There can be no 
doubt, I think, that the susceptibility of lively emotion 
is exceedingly different in men under the same cir- 
cumstances. Persons of strong affections and ardent 
temperament, upon an unexpected bereavement of a 
beloved wife or child, are thrown into an agony of 
grief which is scarcely tolerable ; while those of a cold, 
phlegmatic temperament, seem to suffer no exquisite 
anguish from this or any other cause. Not that they 
possess more fortitude or resignation, for the contrary 
may be the fact ; but their susceptibilities are less 
acute. And this disparity appears in nothing more 
remarkably than in the tendency to entertain different 
degrees of hope or fear in similar circumstances. For, 
while some will hope whenever there is the smallest 
ground for a favourable result, others are sure to fear 
the worst which can possibly happen ; and their ap- 
prehensions are proportioned to the magnitude of the 
interest at stake. Now is it wonderful, that men's 
religious feelings should be affected by the same 
causes? When two exercised persons speak of their 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 49 

convictions, their sorrows and their hopes, is it not to 
be expected, that with the same truths before their 
minds, those of a sanguine temperament will expe- 
rience more sensible emotions, and, upon the same 
evidence, entertain more confident hopes than those 
of a contrary disposition ? And, of necessity, the joy 
of the one will be much more lively than that of the 
other. Thus, two persons may be found, whose ex- 
perience may have been very similar as to their con- 
viction of sin, and exercise of faith and repentance; 
and yet the one will express a strong confidence of 
having passed from death unto life; while the other 
is afraid to express a trembling hope. Of these two 
classes of Christians, the first is the most comfortable, 
the latter the safest, as being unwilling to be satisfied 
with any evidence but the strongest. But there is 
not only a wide difference from this natural cause of 
the liveliness of the emotions of joy and sorrow, and 
of the confidence of the hopes entertained, but usually 
a very different mode of expression. Sanguine per- 
sons, from the very impulse of ardent feeling, have a 
tendency to express things in strong language con- 
stantly verging on exaggeration. They are apt to use 
superlatives and strong emphasis, as wishing to con- 
vey a full idea of their feelings, while those of a colder 
temperament and more timid disposition, fall below 
the reality, in their descriptions, and are cautious not 
to convey to others too high an idea of what they 
have experienced. This diversity, as the cause is 
permanent, characterizes the religious experience of 
these respective classes of Christians through their 
whole pilgrimage, and may be equally manifest on a 
dying bed. Hence it appears how very uncertain a 
knowledge of the internal state of the heart we obtain 
from the words and professions of serious persons. 
It should also serve to shake the vain confidence of 
those who imagine that they can decide with certainty 
whether another is a truly converted person, merely 
from hearing a narrative of his religious experi- 
ence, that two persons may employ the same words 
and phrases to express their feelings, and yet 

5 



50 THOUGHTS ON 

thoie feelings may be specifically different. Each may 
say,, " I felt the love of God shed abroad in my heart, 1 ' 
which in the one case may be the genuine affection 
de-scribed in these words; while in the other it may 
be a mere transport of natural feeling; a mere selfish 
persuasion of being a favourite of heaven; or a high 
state of nervous exhilaration, produced by a physiolo- 
gical cause. Both these persons may be sincere, ac 
cording to the popular acceptation of that term; that 
is, both have really experienced a lively emotion, and 
both mean to express the simple fact ; and yet the one 
is a real Christian, while the other may be in an 
unregenerate state. Another thing which ought to 
destroy this foolish persuasion, that we can certainly 
determine the true spiritual condition of another per- 
son by hearing from him a narrative of his expe- 
rience, is that any words or phrases which can he 
used by a really pious man, may he learned by 
a designing hypocrite. What is to hinder such an 
0©e from using the very language and imitating the 
very manner in which true Christians have been to ard 
to relate their experience ? What can prevent de 
ceivers from catching up the narrative of godly exer 
cises so abundantly found in religious biography, 
and applying it to themselves, as though they had 
experience of these things? While only two 
of Christians have been mentioned, yet in each of 
these there are many subordinate divisions, to describe 
all of which would be tedious and not for edification. 
The reader can readily apply the general principles 
to every variety of experience, modified by this 
cause. 

In the preceding remarks, the healthy, constitutional 
temperament has alone been brought into view; but 
by far the most distressing cases of conscience, with 
which the spiritual physician has to deal, are owing 
to a morbid temperament. As most people are in- 
clined to conceal their spiritual distresses, few h 
any conception of the number of persons who are 
habitually suffering under the frightful malady of 
melancholy With some, this disease is not perma- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 5i 

nent, but occasional. They have only periodical 
paroxysms of deep religious depression ; and they 
may be said to have their compensation, for the dark 
and cloudy day, by being favoured with one of pe- 
culiar brightness, in quick succession. If their gloom 
was uninterrupted, it would be overwhelming, but 
after a dark night, rises a lovely morning without the 
shadow of a cloud. This rapid and great alternation 
of feeling is found in those who possess what may be 
called a mercurial temperament. It is connected with 
a nervous system peculiarly excitable, and exceedingly 
liable to temporary derangement. A rough east wind 
is sufficient to blow up clouds which completely ob- 
scure the cheerful sunshine of the soul ; while the 
wholesome zephyrs as quickly drive all these gloomy 
clouds away. Such persons always have a stomach 
easily disordered, and one ounce of^improper food, or 
one too much of wholesome food, is cause sufficient 
o derange the nerves and depress the spirits. The 
want of refreshing sleep, or watchfulness, is another 
cause of the same effects ; and in its turn, is an effect 
from disordered nerves. But physical causes are not 
the only ones which produce this painful state of feel- 
ing. It is often produced, in a moment, by hearing 
some unpleasant intelligence, or by the occurrence of 
some disagreeable event. But, as was hinted, when 
these people of nervous temperament are relieved 
from a fit of depression, their sky is uncommonly 
free from clouds; their hopes are lively, their spirits 
buoyant, and nothing can trouble them. These alter- 
nations of day and night, of sunshine and darkness, 
must of necessity affect the feelings in regard to alt 
matters, temporal and spiritual ; for as in a dark night 
every object appears black, so when the mind is over- 
cast with gloomy clouds every view must partake of 
he same aspect. To many persons this description 
will be unintelligible ; but by others, it will be recog- 
nized, at once, as a just view of their own case. But 
when religious melancholy becomes a fixed disease, 
it may be reckoned among the heaviest calamities to 
which our suffering nature is subject. It resists all 



52 THOUGHTS ON 

argument and rejects every topic of consolation, from 
whatever source it may proceed. It feeds upon dis- 
tress and despair, and is displeased even with the sug- 
gestion or offer of relief. The mind thus affe< 
seizes on those ideas and truths which are most awful 
and terrific. Any doctrine which excludes all hope 
is congenial to the melancholy spirit, and it seizes on 
such things with an unnatural avidity, and will not 
let them go. 

There is no subject on which it is more vain and 
dangerous to theorize than our religious experience. 
It is therefore of unspeakable importance that minis- 
ters of the gospel, who have to deal with dise;> 
consciences, should have had some experience them- 
selves in these matters. This, no doubt, is one reason 
why some, intended to be "sons of consolation" to 
others, have been brought through deep waters, and 
have been buffeted by many storms, before they ob- 
tained a settled peace of mind. It is a proper object 
of inquiry, why, in our day, so little is heard about 
the spiritual troubles, of which we read so much in 
the casuistical treatises of writers of a former age. It 
can scarcely be supposed that the faith of modern 
Christians is so much stronger than that of believers 
who lived in other days, that they are enabled easily 
to triumph over their melancholy fears and despon- 
dency. Neither can we suppose that Satan is less 
busy in casting his fiery darts, and in attempts to 
drive the children of God to despair. There is rea- 
son to fear, that among Christians of the present time, 
there is less deep, spiritual exercise, than in former 
days; and as little is said on this subject in public dis- 
courses, there may be greater concealment of the 
troubles of this kind than if these subjects were more 
frequently discussed. It is observable that all those 
who have experienced this sore affliction and have 
been mercifully delivered from it, are very solicit- 
ous to administer relief and comfort to others who are 
still exposed to the peltings of the pitiless storm ; and 
these are the persons who feel the tenderest sympathy 
with afflicted consciences, and know how to bear with 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 53 

the infirmities and waywardness which accompany a 
state of religious melancholy. It is also remarkable, 
that very generally, they who have been recovered 
from such diseases, attribute no small part of their 
troubles to a morbid temperament of body, and ac- 
cordingly, in their counsels to the melancholy, they lay 
particular stress on the regular, healthy state of the 
body. 

About the close of the seventeenth century, the 
Rev. Timothy Rogers, a pious and able minister of 
London, fell into a state of deep melancholy ; and 
such was the distressing darkness of his mind, that he 
gave up all hope of the mercy of God, and believed 
himself to be a vessel of wrath, designed for destruc- 
tion, for the praise of the glorious justice of the Al- 
mighty. His sad condition was known to many pious 
ministers and people throughout the country, who, it 
is believed, were earnest and incessant in their suppli- 
cations in his behalf. And these intercessions were 
not ineffectual ; for it pleased God to grant a complete 
deliverance to his suffering servant. And having re- 
ceived comfort of the Lord, he was exceedingly de- 
sirous to be instrumental in administering the same 
comfort to others, with which he himself had been 
comforted. He therefore wrote several treatises with 
this object in view, which are well calculated to be of 
service to those labouring under spiritual distress. 
One of these is entitled, "Recovery from Sickness," 
another " Consolation to the Afflicted," and a 
third, "A Discourse on Trouble of Mind, and the 
Disease of Melancholy." In the "preface" to this 
last, the author gives directions to the friends of per- 
sons labouring under religious melancholy, how to 
treat them. The substance of these, I will now com- 
municate to the reader. "1. Look upon your dis- 
tressed friends as under one of the worst distempers 
to which this miserable life is obnoxious. Melan- 
choly incapacitates them for thought or action : it 
confounds and disturbs all their thoughts and fills 
them with vexation and anguish. I verily believe, 
that when this malign humour is deeply fixed and 



54 THOUGHTS ON 

has spread its deleterious influence over every pa^, 
it is as vain to attempt to resist it, by reasoning and 
rational motives, as to oppose a fever, or the gout, or 
pleurisy. One of the very worst attendants of this 
disease is, the want of sleep, by which in other dis- 
tresses men are relieved and refreshed; but in this 
disease, either sleep flies far away, or is so disturbed, 
that the poor sufferer, instead of being refreshed, is 
like one on the rack. The faculties of the soul are 
weakened, and all their operations disturbed and 
clouded ; and the poor body languishes and pines 
away, at the same time. And that which renders 
this disease more formidable is, its long continue 
It is a long time often before it comes to its height ; 
and usually as tedious in its declension. It is. in 
every respect, sad and overwhelming; a state of dark- 
ness that has no discernible beams of light It gene- 
rally begins in the body, and then conveys its venom 
to the mind. I pretend not to tell you what medicines 
will cure it, for I know of none. I leave you to ad- 
vise with such as are skilled in physic, and especially 
to such doctors as have experienced something of it 
themselves; for it is impossible to understand the 
nature of it- in any other way than by experience. 
There is danger, as Mr. Greenham says, 'that the 
bodily physician will look no further than the body, 
while the spiritual physician will totally disregard the 
body, and look only at the mind.' 

"2. Treat those who are under this disease with 
tender compassion. Remember also, that you are liable 
to the same affliction ; for however brisk your spirits 
and lively your feelings now, you may meet with such 
reverses, with such long and sharp afflictions, as will 
sink your spirits. Many, not naturally inclined to me- 
lancholy, have, by overwhelming and repeated calam- 
ities, been sunk into this dark gulf. 

" 3. Never use harsh language to your friends when 
under the disease of melancholy. This will only 
serve to fret and perplex them the more, but will 
never benefit them. I know that the counsel of some 
is, to rebuke and chide them, on all occasions ; but I 



RELIGIOUS KXPEKIIWCE. 55 

dare confidently say, that such advisers never felt the 
disease themselves ; for if they had, they would know 
that thus they do but pour oil into the flames, and 
chafe and exasperate their wounds, instead of healing 
them. Mr. Dod, by reason of his mild, meek, and 
merciful spirit, was reckoned one of the fittest persons 
to deal with those thus afflicted. Never was any per- 
son more tender and compassionate as all will be con- 
vinced, who will read the accounts of Mr. Peacock 
and Mrs. Drake, both of whom were greatly relieved 
by his conversation. 

" 4. If you would possess any influence over your 
friends in this unhappy state of mind, you must be 
careful not to express any want of confidence in what 
they relate of their own feelings and distresses. On 
this point, there is often a great mistake. When they 
speak of their frightful and distressing apprehensions, 
it is common for friends to reply, < that this is all im- 
aginary' — 6 nothing but fancy/ 'an unfounded whim.' 
Now the disease is a real one, and their misery is as 
real as any experienced by man. It is true, their 
imagination is disordered, but this is merely the effect 
of a deeper disease. These afflicted persons never can 
believe that you have any real sympathy with their 
misery, or feel any compassion for them, unless you 
believe what they say. 

" 5. Do not urge your melancholy friends to do 
what is out of their power. They are like persons 
whose bones are broken, and who are incapacitated 
for action. Their disease is accompanied with per- 
plexing and tormenting thoughts ; if you can inno- 
cently divert them, you would do them a great kind- 
ness ; but do not urge them to any thing which requires 
close and intent thinking ; this will only increase the 
disease. But you will ask, ought we not to urge 
them to hear the word of God ? I answer, if they are 
so far gone in the disease as to be in continual, unre- 
mitting anguish, they are not capable of hearing, on 
account of the painful disorder of their minds. But 
if their disorder is not come to such a distressing 



56 THOUGHTS ON 

height, you may kindly and gently persuade them to 
attend on the preaching of the word ; but beware of 
using a peremptory and violent method. The method 
pursued by Mr. Dod, with Mrs. Drake, should be 
imitated. ' The burden which overloaded her soul 
was so great, that we never durst add any thereunto, 
but fed her with all encouragements, she being too apt 
to overcharge herself, and to despair upon any addition 
of fuel to that fire which was inwardly consuming 
her. And so, wherever she went to hear, notice was 
given to the minister officiating, that he had such a 
hearer, and by this means she received no discourage- 
ment from hearing.' 

"6. Do not attribute the effects of mere disease to 
the devil; although I do not deny that he has an 
agency in producing some diseases; especially, by 
harassing and disturbing the mind to such a 
that the body suffers with it. lint it is very unwise to 
ascribe every feeling and every word of the melancholy 
nan to Satan; whereas, many of these are as natural 
consequences of bodily disease, as the symptoms of a 
lever, which the poor sufferer can no more avoid, 
than the sick man can keep himself from sighing and 
groaning Many will say to such an one, ' Why do 
yon so pore over your ease and thus gratify the devil?' 
whereas, it is the very nature of the disease to cause 
such fixed musings. You might as well say to a 
man in a fever, « Why are you not well, why will you 
be sick?' Some, indeed, suppose, that the melan- 
choly hug their disease, and are unwilling to give 
it up, but you might as well suppose that a man would 
be pleased with lying on a bed of thorns, or in a 
fiery furnace. No doubt the devil knows how to 
work on minds thus diseased, and that by shooting 
his fiery darts, he endeavours to drive them to utter 
despair. But if you persuade them that all which 
they experience is from the devil, you may induce the 
opinion in them, that they are actually possessed of 
the evil one ; which has been the unhappy condition 
of some whose minds were disordered. I would not 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 57 

have you to bring a railing accusation, even against 
the devil, neither must you falsely accuse your friends 
by saying that they gratify him. 

" 7. Do not express much surprise or wonder at any 
thing which melancholy persons say or do. What 
will not they say, who are in despair of God's mercy? 
What will not they do, who think themselves lost, 
forever? You know that even such a man as Job 
cursed his day, so that the Lord charged him ' with 
darkening counsel by words without knowledge.' 
Do not wonder that they give expression to bitter 
complaints; the tongue will always be speaking of the 
aching tooth. Their soul is sore vexed, and although 
they get no good by complaining, yet they cannot but 
complain, to find themselves in such a doleful case 
And they can say with David, <I am weary with my 
groaning: all the night make I my bed to swim, I 
vvater my couch with my tears ;' yet they cannot for- 
oear to groan and weep more, until their very eyes 
be consumed with grief. Let no sharp words of 
theirs provoke you to talk sharply to them. Sick peo- 
ple are apt to be peevish, and it would be a great 
weakness in you, not to bear with them, when you see 
that a long and sore disease has deprived them of their 
former good temper. 

"8. Do not tell them any frightful stories, nor re- 
count to them the sad disasters which have overtaken 
others. Their hearts do already meditate terror, and 
by every r alarming thing of which they hear, they are 
the more terrified, and their disordered imagination is 
prepared to seize upon every frightful image which 
is presented. The hearing of sad things always 
causes them more violent agitations. Yet you must 
avoid merriment and levity in their presence, for this 
would lead them to think that you have no sympa- 
thy with them, nor concern for them. A mixture of 
gravity and affableness will best suit them ; and, if I 
might advise, I would counsel parents not to put their 
children, who are naturally inclined to melancholy, to 
learning, or to any employment, which requires much 



58 THOUGHTS ON 

study; lest they should at length be preyed upon, by 
their own thoughts. 

" 9. Do not, however, think it needless to talk with 
them. But do not speak as if you thought their dis 
ease would be of long continuance ; for this is the 
prospect which appears most gloomy to the melan 
choly. Rather encourage them to hope for speed 5 
deliverance. Endeavour to revive their spirits by 
declaring, that God can give them relief in a moment, 
and that he has often done so with others; that he can 
quickly heal their disease, and cause his amiable and 
reconciled (lice to shine upon them. 

" 10. It will be useful to tell them of others, who 
have been in the' same state of suffering, and yet have 
been delivered. It is, indeed, true, that they who 
depressed by such a load of grief, are with difficulty 
persuaded, that any were ever in such a condition as 
they are. They think themselves to be more wicked 
than Cain or Judas, and view their own eases to be 
entirely singular. It will, therefore, be important to 
relate real cases of deliverance from similar distress 
and darkness. Several such cases have been known 
to me, as that of Mr. Rosewell, and also Mr. Porter, 
both ministers of the gospel. The latter was six 
years under the pressure {>[ melancholy; yet both 
these experienced complete deliverance, and after- 
wards rejoiced in the light of God's countenance. 1 
myself was near two years in great pain of body, 
and greater pain of soul, and without any prospect 
of peace or help ; and yet God hath recovered me by 
his sovereign grace and mercy. Mr. Robert Bruce, 
minister in Edinburgh, was twenty years in terrors of 
conscience, and yet delivered afterwards. And so, of 
many others, who after a dark and stormy night, 
were blessed with the cheerful light of returning day. 
Mr. Fox, in his book of Martyrs, gives an account of 
a certain Mr. Glover, who was worn and consumed 
with inward trouble, for five years, so that he had no 
comfort in his food, nor in his sleep, nor in any enjoy- 
ment of life. He was so perplexed, as if he had been 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 59 

in the deepest pit of hell, and yet this good servant 
of God, after all these horrid temptations and buffet- 
ings of Satan, was delivered from all his trouble, and 
the effect was such a degree of mortification of sin, 
that he appeared as one already in heaven. 

" 11. The next thing which you are to do for your 
melancholy friends, is to pray for them. As they have 
not light and composure to pray for themselves, let 
your eyes weep for them in secret, and there let your 
souls melt in fervent holy prayers. You know that 
none but God alone can help them. Mr. Peacock said 
to Mr. Dod, and his other friends, 'Take not the name 
of God in vain, by praying for such a reprobate.' Mr. 
Dod replied, ' If God stir up your friends to pray foi 
you, he will stir up himself to hear their prayers.' 
You ought to consider that nothing but prayer can do 
them good. It is an obstinate disease that nothing 
else will overcome. Those who can cure themselves 
by resorting to wine and company, were never under 
this disease. 

" 12. Not only pray for them yourself, but engage 
other Christian friends, also, to pray for them. When 
lpany good people join their requests together, their 
cry is more acceptable and prevalent. When the church 
united in prayer for Peter, in chains, he was soon de- 
livered, and in the very time of their prayers. All 
believers have, through Christ, a great interest in 
heaven, and the Father is willing to grant what they 
unitedly and importunately ask, in the name of his 
dear Son. I myself have been greatly helped by the 
prayers of others, and I heartily thank all those espe- 
cially, who set apart particular days to remember at a 
throne of grace, my distressed condition. Blessed be 
God that he did not turn away his mercy from me, nor 
turn a deaf ear to their supplications ! 

" 13. Put your poor, afflicted friends, in mind, 
continually, of the sovereign grace of God, in Jesus 
Christ. Often impress on their minds, that He is 
merciful and gracious ; that as far as the heavens are 
above the earth, so far are his thoughts above their 
thoughts ; his thoughts of mercy above their self-con- 



60 THOUGHTS ON 

demning, guilty thoughts. Teach them as much as 
you can, to look unto God, by the great Mediator, foi 
grace and strength, and not too much to pore ovei 
their own souls, where there is so much darkness and 
unbelief. And turn away their thoughts from the 
decrees of God. Show them what great sinners God 
has pardoned, and encourage them to believe and to 
hope for mercy. When Mrs. Drake was in her deplo 
rable state of darkness, she would send a description 
of her case to distinguished ministers, concealing her 
name, to know whether such a creature, without faith, 
hope, or love to God or man — hard-hearted, without 
natural affection, who had resisted and abused all 
means, could have any hope of going to heaven ? 
Their answer was. that such like, and much worse, 
might, by the mercy of God, be received into favour, 
converted and saved ; which did much allay her 
trouble. 'For/ said she, 'the fountain of all my 
misery hath been, that I sought thai in the law, which 
I should have found in the gospel; and tor that in 
myself, which was only to be found in Christ.' 'From 
my own experience, I can testily/ says Mr, Rogers, 
'that the mild and gentle way of dealing with such is 
the best.' " 

A volume might be written on the subject of reli- 
gious melancholy, and such a volume is much needed; 
but it would be difficult to find a person qualified for 
the undertaking. We have some books written by 
pious casuists ; and the subject is handled in medical 
treatises on insanity; but, to do it justice, physiolo- 
gical knowledge must be combined with an accurate 
acquaintance with the experience of Christians. Bur- 
ton's " Anatomy of Melancholy," is one of the strangest 
books I ever read. For curious learning and clas- 
sical quotations, it cannot be surpassed. And there 
is much originality of remark, and frequent strokes 
Df wit in the work, but very little valuable informa- 
tion on the subject of which it treats. The author 
seems to have been himself troubled with fits of 
melancholy, and, enjoying much learned leisure, amused 
his melancholy hours by searching after and heaping 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. Gl 

up mucn learning, out of the common track. The 
spiritual physician, who has the cure of diseased 
souls, takes much less pains to inquire minutely and 
exactly into the maladies of his patients, than is ob- 
servable in physicians of the body. I have often 
admired the alacrity and perseverance with which 
medical students attend upon anatomical and physio- 
logical lectures; although often, the exhibitions are 
extremely repulsive to our natural feelings. The 
patience and ingenuity, with which the men of this 
profession make experiments are highly worthy of im- 
itation. Many of our young preachers, when they 
forth on their important errand, are poorly qualified to 
direct the doubting conscience, or to administer safe 
consolation to those troubled in spirit. And in modern 
preaching, there is little account made of the various 
distressing cases of deep affliction under which many 
serious persons are suffering. If we want counsel 
on subjects of this kind, we must go back to the old 
writers; but as there is now small demand for such 
works, they are fast sinking into oblivion ; and their 
place is not likely to be supplied by any works which 
the prolific press now pours forth. It is, however, a 
pleasing circumstance, that the writings of so many 
of our old English d; rines have recently been reprint- 
ed in London. But still many valuable treatises are 
destined to oblivion. The only object which I have 
in view, in introducing this subject, is to inquire, 
what connexion there is between real experimental 
religion and melancholy. And I must, in the first 
place, endeavour to remove a prevalent prejudice, 
that in all religious persons there is a strong tendency 
to melancholy. Indeed, there are not a few who 
confound these two things so completely, that they 
have no other idea of becoming religious, than sink- 
ing into a state of perpetual gloom. Such persons 
as these are so far removed from all just views of 
the nature of religion, that I shall not attempt, at 
present, to correct their errors. There are others, who 
entertain the opinion, that deep religious impressions 
tend to produce that state of mind called melancholy; 

6 



62 THOUGHTS ON 

and not only so, but they suppose that in many cases, 
insanity is the consequence of highly raised religious 
affections. The fact cannot be denied, that religion 
is often the subject which dwells on the minds 
both the melancholy and the insane. But, I am ot 
opinion, that we are here in danger of iv the 

order of nature, and putting the effect in the place of 
the cause. Religion does not produce melancholy. 
but melancholy turns the thoughts to religion. Per- 
sons of a melancholy temperament seize on such ideas 
as are most awful, and which furnish the greatest 
opportunity of indulging in despondency and des- 
pair. Sometimes, however, it is not religion which 
occupies the minds and thoughts of the melancholy, 
but their own health, which they imagine, without 
reason, to he declining; or their estates, which they 
apprehend to he wasting away, and abject poverty 
and beggary stare them in the face. Not unfrequent- 
ly this disease alienates the mind entirely from reli- 
gion, and the unhappy victim ot" it refuses to attend 
upon any religious duties, or to be present where 
they are performed. Frequently it assumes the form 
of monomania* or a fixed misapprehension in regard 
to some one thing. The celebrated and excellent 
William Cowper laboured, for years, under one of 
the most absurd hallucinations, respecting a single 
point; and in that point, his be ief — though invinci- 
ble — was repugnant to the whole of his religious 
creed. He imagined, that he had received from the 
Almighty a command, at a certain time, when in a fit 
of insanity, to kill himself; and as a punishment for 
disobedience, he had forfeited a seat in paradise. And 
so deep was this impression, that he would attend on 
no religious worship, public or private; and yet at 
this very time took a lively interest in the advance- 
ment of Christ's kingdom; and his judgment was so 
sound on other matters, that such men, as John New- 
ton and Thomas Scott, were in the habit of consult- 
ing with him on all difficult points. The case of this 
man of piety and genius, was used by the enemies of 
religion, and particularly by the enemies of Calvin 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 63 

ism, as an argument against the creed which he had 
embraced ; whereas his disease was at the worst, be 
fore he had experienced any thing of religion, or had 
embraced the tenets of Calvin. And, let it be remem- 
bered, that it was by turning his attention to the con- 
solations of religion, that his excellent physician was 
successful in restoring his mind to tranquillity and 
comfort ; and the world will one day learn, that of 
all the remedies for this malady, the pure doctrines of 
grace are the most effectual to resuscitate the melan- 
choly mind. This is, in fact, a bodily disease, by 
which the mind is influenced and darkened. Thus 
it was received by the ancient Greeks ; for the term is 
compounded of two Greek words which signify black 
bile. How near they were to the truth, in assigning 
the physical cause which produces the disease, I leave 
to others to determine. Casuists have often erred 
egregiously, by referring all such cases to mental or 
moral causes. It is probable, even when the disease 
is brought, on by strong impressions on the mind, that, 
by these, physical derangement occurs. To reason 
with a man against the views which arise from mel- 
ancholy, is commonly as inefficacious, as reasoning 
against bodily pain ! I have long made this a crite- 
rion, to ascertain whether the dejection experienced 
was owing to a physical cause ; for, in that case, argu- 
ment though demonstrative, has no effect. Still such 
persons should be affectionately conversed with ; and 
their peculiar opinions and views should rarely be con- 
tradicted. Cases often occur, in which there is a mix- 
ture of moral and physical causes ; and these should be 
treated in reference to both sources of their affliction. 
Melancholy is sometimes hereditary, and often consti- 
tutional. When such persons are relieved for a while, 
they are apt to relapse into the same state, as did Wil- 
liam Cowper. The late excellent and venerable James 
Hall, D. D. of North Carolina, was of a melancholy tem- 
perament; and, after finishing his education at Princeton, 
he fell into a gloomy dejection, which interrupted his stu- 
dies and labours for more than a year. After his resto- 
ration, he laboured successfully and comfortably in the, 



64 . THOUGHTS ON 

ministry for many years, even to old age ; but at las* 
was overtaken again, and entirely overwhelmed by this 
terrible malady. Of all men, that I ever saw, he had 
the tenderest sympathy with persons labouring under 
religious despondency. When on a journey, I have 
known him to travel miles out of his way to converse 
with a sufferer of this kind; and his manner was most 
tender and affectionate in speaking to such. 

I have remarked, that persons who gave no symp- 
toms of this disease until the decline of life, have then 
fallen under its power; owing to some change in the 
constitution at that period, or some change in their ac- 
tive pursuits. I recollect two cases of overwhelming 
melancholy in persons, who appeared in their former 
life, as remote from it as any that 1 ever knew. The 
first was a man of extraordinary talents, and eloquence; 
bold and decisive in his temper, and fond of company 
and good cheer. When about fifty-five or six years of 
age, without any external cans*; to produce the effect, 
his spirits began to sink, and feelings of melancholy to 
seize upon him. lie avoided company; hut I had fre- 
quent occasion to see him, and sometimes he could he 
engaged in conversation, when he would speak as 
judiciously as before; but he soon reverted to his dark 
melancholy mood. On one occasion he mentioned his 
case to me, and observed with emphasis, that he had 
no power whatever to resist the disease, and, said he, 
with despair in his countenance, " I shall soon be utter- 
ly overwhelmed." And so it turned out, for the disease 
advanced until it ended in the worst form of mania, and 
soon terminated his life. The other was the case of a 
gentleman who had held ollice in the American army, 
in the revolutionary war. About the same age, or a 
little later, he lost his cheerfulness, which had never 
been interrupted before, and by degrees, sunk into a 
most deplorable state of melancholy, which as in the 
former case, soon ended in death. In this case, the first 
thing which I noticed, was, a morbid sensibility of the 
moral sense, which filled him witli remorse, for acts, 
which had little or no moral turpitude attached to them. 

I would state then, as the result of all my observa- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 65 

tion, that religion, in its regular and rational exercise, 
has no tendency to melancholy or insanity, but the 
contrary; and that, religion is the most effectual re- 
medy for this disease, whatever be its cause. But 
melancholy persons are very apt to seize on the dark 
side of religion, as affording food for the morbid state 
of. their minds. True Christians, as being subject to 
like diseases with others, may become melancholy; but 
not in consequence of their piety : but in this melan- 
choly condition, they are in a more comfortable, as 
well as in a safer state, than others. They may relin- 
quish all their hopes; but they cannot divest them- 
selves of their pious feelings. 

I have said nothing respecting the supposed ten- 
dency of strong religious feelings to produce insanity, 
for what has been said respecting melancholy is equally 
applicable to this subject. Indeed, I am of opinion, 
that melancholy is a species of insanity; and in its 
worst form, the most appalling species ; for, in most 
cases, insane persons seem to have many enjoyments, 
arising out of their strange misconceptions, but the 
victim of melancholy is miserable ; he is often suffer- 
ing under the most horrible of all calamities, black 
despair. When a child, I used to tremble when I 
read Bunyan's account, in his Pilgrim, of the man 
shut up in the iron cage. And in the year 1791, 
when I first visited the Pennsylvania Hospital, I saw 
a man there who had arrived a few days before, said 
to be in a religious melancholy, and to be in despair. 
He had made frequent attempts on his own life, and 
all instruments, by which he might accomplish that 
direful purpose, were carefully removed. Having 
never been accustomed to see insane persons, the 
spectacle of so many, deprived of reason, made an 
awful impression on my mind; but although some 
were raving and blaspheming, in their cells, and 
others confined in strait-jackets, the sight of no one so 
affected me, as that of this man in despair. Although 
near half a century has elapsed since I beheld his sor- 
rowful countenance, there is still a vivid picture of it 
in my imagination. We spoke to him, but he re 

6* 



66 THOUGHTS ON 

turned no answer; except that he once raised his des- 
pairing eyes; but immediately cast them down again, 
Whether this man had been the subject of any re 
ligious impressions, I did not learn. But this one 
thing, I must testify, that I never knew the most pun- 
gent convictions of sin to terminate in insanity; and 
as to the affections of love to God, and the lively hope 
of everlasting life producing insanity, it is too absurd 
for any one to believe it. I do not dispute, however, 
that enthusiasm may have a tendency to insanity; 
and some people are so ignorant of the nature of true 
religion as to confound it with enthusiasm. I will go 
further and declare, that, after much thought on the 
subject of enthusiasm, I am unable to account for 
the effects produced by it, in any other way, than by 
supposing that it is a case of real insanity. Diseases 
of this class are the more dangeroU8 9 because they are 
manifestly contagious. The very looks and tones of 
an enthusiast are felt to be powerful by everyone; 
and when the nervous system of any one is in a state 
easily susceptible of emotions from such a cause, 
the dominion of reason is overthrown, and wild ima- 
gination and irregular emotion govern the infatuated 
person, who readily embraces all the extravagant 
opinions, and receives all the disturbing impressions 
which belong to the party infected. Without a sup- 
position such as the foregoing, how can you account 
for the fact, that an educated man and popular 
preacher, and a wife, intelligent and judicious above 
most, having a family of beloved children, should 
separate from each other; relinquish all the comforts 
of domestic life, and a pleasant and promising con- 
gregation, to connect themselves with a people who 
are the extreme of all enthusiasts — the Shakers? But 
such facts have been witnessed in our own times, and 
in no small numbers. In a town in New Hampshire, 
the writer, when in the neighbourhood, was told of 
the case of a young preacher, who visited the Shakei 
settlement, out of curiosity, to see them dance, in 
which exercise their principal worship consists: but, 
tfhile he stood and looked on, he was seized with the 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 67 

same spirit, and began to shake and dance too ; and 
never returned, but remained in the society. But, 
there being no demand for his learning or preaching 
talents, whatever they might be — and he being an able 
bodied man, they employed him in building stone 
fences. This species of infatuation, which is called 
enthusiasm, is apt to degenerate into bitterness and 
malignity of spirit, towards all who do not embrace it, 
and then it is termed fanaticism. This species of in- 
sanity, as I must be permitted to call it, differs from 
other kinds in that it is social, or affects large number? 
in the same way, and binds them together by the link 
of close fraternity. It agrees with other kinds of mo- 
nomania, in that the aberration of mind relates to one 
subject, while the judgment may be sound in othei 
matters. No people know how to manage their agri- 
cultural, horticultural, and mechanical business more 
skilfully and successfully, than the Shakers. And the 
newer sect of Mormons, would soon settle down to 
peaceable industry, if the people would let them alone. 
This country promises to be the theatre of all con 
ceivable forms of enthusiasm and fanaticism ; and as 
long as these misguided people pursue their own course, 
without disturbing other people, they should be left to 
their own delusions, as it relates to the civil power; 
but if any of them should be impelled by their fanati- 
cal spirit, to disturb the peace, they should be treated 
like other maniacs. 

The causes of melancholy and insanity, whether 
physical or moral, cannot easily be explored. The 
physician will speak confidently about a lesion of the 
brain, but when insane persons have been subjected to 
a post-mortem examination, the brain very seldom 
exhibits any appearance of derangement. The casu- 
ist, on the other hand, thinks only of moral causes, 
and attributes the disease to such of this class as are 
known to have existed, or flees to hypothesis, which 
will account for every thing. There is a remarkable 
coincidence, however, which has fallen under my ob- 
servation, between those who assign a moral and those 



68 THOUGHTS ON 

who assign a physical cause for melancholy and mad 
ness, in regard to one point. Some forty or fifty years 
ago, the writer, about the same time, read Shepard'fl 
" Sincere Convert," and Robe on " Religious Melan 
eholy," and he noticed, that they both ascribe the deep 
and fixed depression of spirits, frequently met with, to 
a secret, criminal indulgence. Well, in the statistics 
of several insane asylums and penitentiaries which 
have been published recently, the most of the cases of 
insanity are confidently ascribed to the same thing, as 
its physical cause. This increasing evil is of such a 
nature that we cannot be more explicit. Those who 
ought to know the facts, will understand the reference. 
It must, after all, be admitted that the claims of intem- 
perance in the use of intoxicating drinks, to a delete- 
rious influence on the reason, stand in the foremost 
rank; but the madness produced by this cause is com- 
monly of short duration. I do not speak of that loss 
of reason which is the immediate effect of alcohol on 
the brain; but of that most tremendous form of mad- 
ness called delirium tremens, I have said that it \ 
short, because it is commonly the last stru ' the 

human constitution, under the influence of a dreadful 
poison, which has now consummated its work — and 
death soon steps in and puts an end to the conflict. 

After spending so much time in speaking of melan- 
choly as a disease, I anticipate the thoughts of some 
good people, who will be ready to say. What, is there 
no such thing as spiritual desertion — times of dark- 
ness and temptation, which are independent of the 
bodily temperament ? To which 1 answer, that I 
fully believe there are many such cases; but they de- 
serve a separate consideration, and do not fall within 
the compass of my present design. The causes, symp- 
toms, and cure of such spiritual maladies are faith- 
fully delineated by many practical writers; and although 
these cases are entirely distinct from melancholy, 
they assume, in many respects, similar symptoms, 
and, by the unskilful casuist, are confounded with 
it. These two causes, as I have before intimated 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 69 

may often operate together, and produce a mixed 
and very perplexed case, both for the bodily and spi 
ritual physician. 

After all that has been said, the fact, with which we 
commenced, is that religious exercises are very much 
modified by the temperament, and in some cases, by 
the idiosyncrasy of the individual. The liquor put 
into an old cask, commonly receives a strong tincture 
from the vessel. Old habits, although a new govern- 
ing principle is introduced into the system, do not yield 
at once ; and propensities, apparently extinguished, are 
apt to revive, and give unexpected trouble. It is a 
comfortable thought, that those bodies cannot go with 
the saints to heaven, until they are completely purified. 
What proportion of our present feelings will be drop- 
ped with the body, we cannot tell. How a disembodied 
spirit will perceive, feel, and act, we shall soon know 
by consciousness; but, if ever so many of the departed ; 
should return and attempt to communicate to us their 
present mode of existence, it would be all in vain ; the 
things, which relate to such a state, are inconceivable, 
and unspeakable. What Paul saw in the third heaven 
he dare not, or he could not communicate ; but he did 
not know whether he saw these wonderful things in 
the body or out of the body. This was a thing known, 
as he intimates, only to God. 



CHAPTER V. 

Effect of sympathy illustrated. — Cautions in relation to this subject. — A 
singular case in illustration. 

The causes, already considered, which modify reli 
gious experience, relate to Christians as individuals 
but man is constitutionally a social being; and reli 
gion is a social thing; so that we cannot have a com 
plete view of this subject, without considering them 
as they stand connected with others ; and, especially,, 
as they are influenced by one another. There is a 
mysterious bond, called sympathy, by which not only 



70 THOUGHTS ON 

numan beings, but some species of animals are con- 
nected. It is much easier, on this subject, to state 
facts than to account for them. A man cannot go 
into any company without being sensible of some 
change in his feelings. Whatever passion agitates 
those around him, he involuntarily participates in the 
emotion; and the mere external expression of any 
feeling, often produces the same expression in himself, 
whether it be yawning, smiling, crying, or coughing, 
and this must be effected by an assimilation of the 
mind of the beholder, to the state of mind which 
produced the external act. The wilder and stronger 
the passions which agitate others, the more are we 
affected by them. This operation of mutual sympa- 
thetic excitement, when many persons are brought 
together under some agitating influence, produces a 
stream of emotion which cannot easily he resisted; and 
far above what any one of the crowd would have felt, 
if the same cause had operated on him alone. He 
the ungovernable fury of mobs, carrying desolation, and 
often murder in their train; and yet the ringleaders, 
had they been alone, would have experienced no such 
violence of passion ; and hence the danger, in large 
cities, of permitting multitudes of undisciplined peo- 
ple to assemble promiscuously. A mob is an artifi- 
cial body, pervaded by one spirit; by the power of 
sympathy; for which the French have an appropriate 
phrase, esprit du corps. If there be any thing in 
animal magnetism, which has of late made so much 
noise, beside sheer imposture, it must be grafted on 
this principle ; for the extent to which human beings 
may influence each other, by contact or proximity, in 
certain excitable states of the nervous system, has 
never been accurately ascertained. In those remark- 
able bodily affections, called the jerks, which appear- 
ed in religious meetings some years ago, the nervous 
irregularity was commonly produced by the sight of 
other persons thus affected ; and if, in some instances, 
without the sight, yet by having the imagination 
strongly impressed by hearing of such things. It 
is a fact, as undoubted as it is remarkable, that, as this 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 71 

bcdily affection assumed a great variety of appear- 
ances, in different places, nothing was more common, 
than for a new species of the exercise, as it was called, 
to be imported from another part of the country, by 
one or a few individuals. This contagion of nervous 
excitement is not unparalleled ; for whole schools of 
young ladies have been seized with spasmodic or epi- 
leptic fits, in consequence of a single scholar being 
taken with the disease. There are many authentic 
facts ascertained in relation to this matter, which I 
hope some person will collect and give to the public, 
through the press. It will not be thought strange 
then, that sympathy should have a powerful influence 
in increasing and modifying the feelings which are 
experienced in religious meetings; nor is it desirable 
that it should be otherwise. This principle, no doubt, 
is liable to abuse, and when unduly excited, may be 
attended with disagreeable and injurious effects, but 
without it, how dull and uninteresting would social 
worship be. When a whole assembly, in listening 
to the same evangelical discourse, or praising God 
in the same divine song, or sitting together around the 
same sacramental table, are deeply affected, they form, 
as it we-re, one body, and the whole mass is melted 
down and amalgamated into one grand emotion. 
They seem to have but one heart and one soul ; and 
as harmoniously as their voices mingle in the sacred 
song of praise to the Redeemer, do their feelings amal- 
gamate in one ascending volume, towards heaven. The 
preacher, who is privileged to address such an assem- 
bly, seems to have before him one great body, having 
many eyes, but one soul. Hence we see the reason, 
why a company thinly scattered over a large house, 
always appears cold and uncomfortable; while the 
same persons brought near together, in a small house, 
have an entirely different appearance ; and also we 
see why social meetings in private houses, are felt by 
sincere Christians to be more profitable, often, than 
the more solemn assemblies of the church. And, 
upon the same principle, all worshippers feel more 
animated when surrounded by a multitude. But, it 



72 THOUGHTS ON 

is iii times of revival, or general awakening, thai th« 
power of this principle manifests itself most evidently 
and it is no evidence of a spurious work, that the 
sympathies of the people are much awakened, or thai 
many are led to seriousness by seeing others affected. 
God often blesses this instinctive feeling in this very 
way. But, is it not to be expected that, at sue 
time, many will be affected by mere sympathy? And 
will not such as are thus affected, bo in great dangei 
of being deceived, by taking these tender emotions 
of sympathy to be the exercises of true repentance, 
especially, as they fall in with those convictions of 
conscience, win h all who hear the gospel experience? 
Is it then judic y impassioned discourses, ad* 

dressed to the sympathies of our nature, to raise tins 
class of feelings to ;i dime? <>r to devise measures^ 
by which the passions of the young and ignorant may 
be excited to excess? That measures may be put 
into operation, which have a mighty influence on a 
whole assembly, is readily admitted; but are excite- 
ments thus produced really useful ? They may bring 
young people, who are diffident, to a decision, and 
it were, constrain them to range themselves on the 
Lord's side, but the question which sticks with me, 1 . 
does this really benefit the persons? In my judgment, 
not at all, but the contrary. It' they have the s(;ri\ of 
grace, though it may come forth slowly, yet this prin- 
ciple will find its way to the light and air, and the 
very slowness of its coming forward, may give it 
opportunity to strike its roots deep in the earth. If 1 
were to place myself on what is called an anxious 
scat, or should kneel down before a whole congre 
tion to be prayed for, I know that I should be Strang 
agitated, but I do not believe that it would be of any 
permanent utility. But if it should produce some 
good effect, am I at liberty to resort to any thing in 
the worship of God which I think will be useful ? If 
such things are lawful and useful, why not add other 
circumstances to increase the effect? Why not require 
the penitent, to appear in a white sheet, or to be clothed 
m sackcloth, with ashes on his head ? and these, re 



RELTGIOITS EXPERIENCE. 73 

member, are Scriptural signs of humiliation. And 
on these principles, who can reasonably object to holy- 
water, to incense, and the use of pictures or images in 
the worship of God? All these things come into the 
church upon tins same principle, of devising new mea- 
sures to do good; and if the anxious seat is so pow- 
erful a means of grace, it may soon come to be reck- 
oned among the sacraments of the church. The lan- 
guage of experience is, that it is unsafe and unwise to 
bring persons, who are under religious impressions, 
too much into public view. The seed of the word, 
like the natural seed, does not vegetate well in the 
eun. Be not too impatient to force into maturity the 
plant of grace. Water it, cultivate it, but handle it 
not with a rough hand. The opinion entertained by 
some good people, that all religion obtained in a revi- 
val is suspicious, has no just foundation. At such 
times, when the Spirit of God is really poured out, 
the views and exercises of converts are commonly 
more clear and satisfactory, than at other times, and 
the process of conversion more speed] 7 . But doubt- 
less, there may be expected a considerable crop of 
spurious conversions, and these may make the great- 
est show; for the seed on the stony ground, seems to 
have vegetated the quickest, of any. And this is the 
reason that, after all revivals, there is a sad declension 
in the favourable appearances; because that which 
has no root must soon wither. In looking back, after 
a revival season, I have thought, how would matters 
have been if none had come forward, but such as per- 
severe and bring forth fruit? Perhaps things would 
have gone on so quietly, that the good work would 
not have been called a revival. But ministers cannot 
prevent the impressions which arise merely from 
sympathy — neither should they attempt it; but, when 
they are about to gather the wheat into the garner, 
they should faithfully winnow the heap; not that 
they can discern the spirits of men, but the word of 
God is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the 
heart. The church is no place of safety for the un- 
converted. Hundreds and thousands are shielded 



74 THOUGHTS 0>* 

from salutary convictions, by their profession and 
situation in the church. Let ministers be " wise as 
serpents/' as well as * harmless as doves." u Be not 
many masters, (StSacrxaxoc) knowing that ye shall re- 
ceive the greater condemnation." " They watch for 
souls as they that must give account," — awful ac- 
count ! 

From what has been said about, the power of 
sympathy, some may be ready to conclude that all 
experimental religion, and all revivals may be ac- 
counted for, on this principle, without the necessity 
of supposing any supernatural agency to exist; and 
if no effects were produced but those excitcm 
which often mingle with religious this 

would be no irrational conclusion. But under the 
preaching of the gospel we find a permanent change 
of moral character taking plai great a change, 

that, even in the view of the world who observe it, 
the subject appears to be " a new man." An entire 
revolution has taken place in his principles of action 
as well as in his sentiments respecting divine things. 
Now those who would ascribe all experimental re- 
ligion to mere natural feelings, artificially excited, 
must believe that there are no such transformations 
of character as have been mentioned; and that all 
who profess such a change are false pretenders. But 
this ground is manifestly untenable ; for no facts are 
more certain than such reformations ; and if there be 
men of truth and sincerity in the world, they are to 
be found among those who have undergone this 
moral transformation. Surely there are no pheno- 
mena now taking place in our world half so impor- 
tant and worthy of consideration, as the repentance 
of an habitual sinner; so that he utterly forsakes his 
wicked courses, and takes delight in the worship of 
God and obedience to his will. Let it be remem- 
bered, that these are effects observed only where the 
gospel is preached, and in some instances, numerous 
examples of such conversions from sin to holi 
occur about the same time, and in the same place 
No series of miracles could give stronger evidence of 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 75 

the divine origin and power of the gospel, than the 
actual and permanent reformation of wicked men ; 
and the skeptic may be challenged to account for 
such effects on any natural principles. But it may 
still be asked how the person who is the subject of 
these new views and exercises, can know that they 
are the effects of a supernatural agency? It is readily 
admitted that we cannot be conscious of the agency 
of another spirit on ours, because our consciousness 
extends only to our own thoughts, and often when 
new feelings arise in our minds we are unable to 
trace them to their proper cause. In this case, if we 
had no revelation from God, we might not be able 
with certainty to account for such effects ; but in the 
word of God we are distinctly and repeatedly in- 
formed, that God by his Spirit will continue to ope- 
rate on the minds of men, to turn them from iniquity, 
.and to cause them to engage with delight in his 
service ; and when we find these very effects taking 
place, in connexion with the means appointed to pro- 
duce them, we can have no doubt about their divine 
origin ; and our faith is confirmed in this doctrine 
of divine agency by observing the wonderful change 
produced by the preaching of the gospel upon the 
most depraved and degraded of the heathen. The 
transformation of character, in thousands of instances 
now existing, is enough to produce conviction in any 
mind, not rendered obdurate by the prejudices of infi- 
delity. It may be objected, that, in many instances, 
the change professed is not permanent, but temporary, 
and they who appear saints to-day, may be found 
wallowing in the mire of iniquity, to-morrow. These 
are facts which we cannot gainsay; but we do deny 
that they go to invalidate the argument from the ex- 
amples of a permanent and thorough change which 
do really take place. If there were only one real, 
sound conversion, and reformation, in a hundred of 
those who may be religiously impressed, still, the 
conclusion in favour of a divine influence, would be 
valid. In the spring we behold the trees clothed and 
adorned with millions of blossoms, which never pro- 






*76 THOUGHTS ON 

duce mature fruit ; but when in autumn, we find here 
and there, apples, large, sweet, and mellow, do we 
hesitate to believe that this is a good tree which pro- 
duces good fruit? For reasons already given, it 
ought not to be expected that all serious impressions 
should eventuate in a sound conversion. Externa] 
appearances may be the same to our view, where 
the causes are entirely diverse. This is especially to 
be expected when a great many are affected at once, 
and meet in the same assembly. And if these tran- 
sient appearances did not take place under the preach- 
ing of the gospel, our Saviour's doctrine of the various 
effects of the word would not be verified. Ministers 
of the gospel cannot be blamed for these temporary 
impressions; unless they use unauthorized means to 
work upon the sympathies of their hearers. That, 
through ignorance, vanity and enthu ardour, 

many preachers in our day, have attempted to pro- 
duce such excitements, cannot he denied, and by the 
true friends of vital piety, is greatly lamented. Per- 
haps nothing has so much prejudiced the minds o( 
sensible men against experimental religion, as the 
travagance and violence of those factitious 
ments which have been promoted, in various p] 
by measures artfully contrived to work upon the pas- 
sions and imagination of weak and ignorant people. 
And as the preacher must have his reward of glory 
for his efforts, all this must be so brought out, that 
their number may be counted and published to the 
world. Alas! alas! poor human nature! I believe 
that all respectable denominations, among us, are be- 
coming more and more sensible, that something a 
is requisite in the ministry than fiery zeal. Some 
who, within our remembrance, disparaged a learned 
ministry, are now using noble exertions to erect semi- 
naries, and encourage their young preachers to seek 
to be learned. This is a matter of rejoicing, and 
augurs well for the American Church hereafter. I 
should be unwilling to bring before the public all the 
scenes that I have witnessed under the name of re- 
ligious worship. But as the subject of sympathy is 



RELIGIOUS EXFERIENCE. 77 

still under consideration, I will relieve the reader by 
a short narrative. Being in a part of the country 
where I was known, by face, to scarcely any one, and 
heajring that there was a great meeting in the neigh- 
bourhood, and a good work in progress, I determined 
to attend. The sermon had commenced before I 
arrived, and the house was so crowded that I could 
not approach near to the pulpit, but sat down in a 
kind of shed connected with the main building where 
I could see and hear the preacher. His sermon was 
really striking and impressive, and in language and 
method, far above the common run of extempore dis- 
courses. The people were generally attentive, and, 
so far as I could observe, many were tenderly affected, 
except that in the extreme part of the house, where I 
sat, some old tobacco-planters kept up a continual 
conversation in a low tone, about tobacco-plants, 
seasons, &c. When the preacher came to the appli- 
cation of his discourse he became exceedingly vehe- 
ment and boisterous, and I could hear some sounds in 
the centre of the house which indicated strong emo- 
tion. At length, a female voice was heard, in a 
piercing cry, which thrilled through me and affected 
the whole audience. It was succeeded by a low 
murmuring sound from the middle of the house ; but, 
in a few seconds, one and another arose in different 
parts of the house, under extreme and visible agita- 
tion. Casting off bonnets and caps, and raising their 
folded hands, they shouted to the utmost extent of 
their voice; and in a few seconds more, the whole 
audience was agitated, as a forest when shaken by a 
mighty wind. The sympathetic wave, commencing 
in the centre, extended to the extremities; and at 
length it reached our corner, and I felt the conscious 
effort of resistance as necessary as if I had been ex- 
posed to the violence of a storm. I saw few persons 
through the whole house who escaped the prevailing 
influence ; even careless boys seemed to be arrested 
and to join in the general outcry. But what aston- 
ished me most of all was, that the old tobacco-planters, 
whom I have mentioned, and who, I am persuaded, 

7* 



78 THOUGHTS ON 

had not heard one word of the sermon, were violently 
agitated. Every muscle of their brawny faces ap 
peared to be in tremulous motion, and the big tears 
chased one another down their wrinkled cheeks. 
Here I saw the power of sympathy. The feeling 
was real, and propagated from person to person by 
the mere sounds which were uttered; for many of the 
audience had not paid any attention to what was said; 
but nearly all partook of the agitation. The feelings 
expressed were different, as when the foundation of 
the second temple was laid; for while some uttered 
the cry of poignant anguish, others shouted in the 
accents of joy and triumph. The speaker 
was soon silenced, and he sat clown and gazed on the 
scene with a complacent smile. When this tumult 
had lasted a few minutes, another preacher, as I sup- 
pose he was, who sat on the pulpit steps, with his 
handkerchief spread over his head, began to sic. 
soothing and yet lively tune, and was quickly joined 
by some strong female voices near him ; and in 
than two minutes the storm was hushed, and ti 
was a great calm. It was like pouring oil on the 
troubled waters. I experienced the most sensible 
lief to my own feelings from the appropriate mu 
for I could not hear the words sung. Jhit I could not 
have supposed that any thing could so quickly allay 
such a storm; and all seemed to enjoy the tranquil- 
lity which succeeded. The dishevelled hair was put 
in order, and the bonnets, &.c. gathered up, and the 
irregularities of the dress adjusted, and no one seemed 
conscious of any impropriety. Indeed, there is a pe- 
culiar luxury in such excitements, especially when 
tears are shed copiously, which was the case here. 
But I attended another meeting in another place 
where there had been a remarkable excitement, but 
the tide was far on the ebb; and although we had 
vociferation and outcrying of a stunning kind, I did 
not hear one sound indicative of real feeling, and I do 
not think that one tear was shed during the meeting. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 79 



CHAPTER VI. 

Erroneous views of regeneration.-— The correct view. — The operation oi 
faith. — Exercises of mind, as illustrated in President Edwards's narrative.— 
The operations of faith still further explained. 

It is proper now to inquire, what are the precise 
effects of regeneration, or the exercises of a newly 
converted soul ? As the restoration of depraved man 
to the image of God, lost by the fall, is the grand ob- 
ject aimed at in the whole economy of salvation, it 
can easily be said, in the general, that by this change 
a principle of holiness is implanted, spiritual life is 
communicated, the mind is enlightened, the will re- 
newed, and the affections purified and elevated to 
heavenly objects. Such general descriptions do not 
afford full satisfaction to the inquiring mind ; and as 
we have taken into view many of those circumstances 
which diversify the exercises of grace, in different sub- 
jects, let us now endeavour to ascertain, with as much 
precision as we can, what are those things which are 
essential to the genuineness of this work, and which, 
therefore, will be found in every sincere Christian. 
But in this attempt, great difficulty must be met in 
conveying our ideas with precision. Even those terms 
which are most used in the Holy Scriptures, to desig- 
nate the essential exercises of piety are differently 
understood, and when used, convey different ideas to 
different persons. I will endeavour, however, to avoid 
this difficulty, as much as possible, by defining the 
terms which I employ. I have all along admitted, that 
the mode of the Spirit's operation, in regeneration, is 
altogether inscrutable : and an attempt to explain it, is 
worse than folly. We may, however, without intrud- 
ing into things unseen, or attempting to dive into the 
unsearchable nature of the divine operations, say, that 
God operates on the human mind, in a way perfectly 
consistent with its nature, as a spirit, and a creature of 
understanding and will. On this principle some sup- 



80 THOUGHTS ON 

pose, that there can be no other method of influencing 
a rational mind but by the exhibition of truth, or the 
presentment of motives : any physical operation, tl ey 
allege, would be unsuitable. Their theory of regene- 
ration, therefore, is, that it is produced by the moral 
operation of the truth, contemplated by the under- 
standing, and influencing the affections and the will, 
according to the known principles of our rational na- 
ture. But respecting what is necessary to bring the 
truth fairly before the mind, the abettors of this theory 
divide into several parts. The Pelagian, believing hu- 
man nature to he uncontaminated, and needing nothing 
but a correel knowledge of the truth, rejects all super- 
natural aid. and maintains, that every man has full 
ability to perform all good actions, and to reform 
what is amiss, by simply attending to the instructions 
oi" the word, and exercising his own free will, by 
which he is able to choose and pursue what course 
he pleases. The semi-Pelagian agrees with the views 

n, except in one particular. He believes that the 
truth, if seriously contemplated, will produce the efl 
stated, hut that mankind are so immersed in the world 

ensible objects, and so occupied and filled with 
earthly thoughts and cares, thai no man will, or ever 
does contemplate the truth so impartially and steadily, 
as to produce a change in his affections and purpo 
until he is influenced by the Holy Spirit; and, aceord- 
ing to him, the only need of divine agency, in regene- 
ration, is to direct and fix the attention on divine 
tilings. This being done, the truth, as contained in 
the divine word, and as apprehended by the natu- 
ral understanding, is adequate to produce all the de- 
sired effects on the active principles of our nature. 
There is still a third party, who attribute regenera- 
tion to the simple operation of the truth on the 
mind, whose views are neither Pelagian nor semi- 
Pelagian. They hold, that the natural man cannot dis- 
cern the things of the Spirit of God, and that if a man 
iliould ever so long contemplate the truth with such 
views as natural reason takes of it, it would never 
transform him into the divine likeness ; but that, by 



RELIGIOUS [ENCE. S\ 

the illumination of the Holy Spirit, the sinner must 
obtain new, spiritual views of divine things, by which 
he is renovated or regenerated: yet, these deny that 
any operation on the mind itself is necessary, as they 
allege that these spiritual views of truth will cer- 
tainly draw after them the exercise of those affections, 
in which holiness essentially consists. Now, in my 
judgment, this theory is defective, only in one point, 
and that is, it supposes the mind, which is already in 
possession of doctrinal knowledge of the truth, to 
have this same truth presented to it in an entirely new 
light, without any operation on the soul itself. Just 
as. if a man was blind, but standing in the clear 
shining of the sun's rays. These he feels, and can 
talk philosophically about the sensation of light and 
colours; while he has not in his mind the first simple 
perception of any object of sight. Could this man be 
made to perceive the visible objects around him, 
without an operation on the eyes to remove the ob- 
struction, or to rectify the organ? The case of the 
soul is entirely analogous. Here is light enough; the 
truth is viewed by the intellect of unregenerate man, 
but has no transforming efficacy. The fault is not in 
the truth, which is perfect, but the blindness is in the 
mind, which can only be removed by an influence on 
the soul itself; that is, by the power of God creating 
"a new heart," to use the language of Scripture. 
The apostle Paul was sent to the Gentiles " to open 
their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light. " 
Two things are always necessary to distinct vision, 
the medium of light, and a sound organ ; either of 
these without the other, would be useless ; but com- 
bined, the beauties of nature, and the glory of God in 
the visible world, are seen with delight. It is so in 
the spiritual world. The truth is necessary; but until 
the mind is brought into a state in which it can per- 
ceive it in its beauty and glory, it is heard, and read, 
and contemplated, without any transforming effect — 
without drawing the affections to God, or subduing 
the power of selfish and sensual desires. The fault 
existing in the -percipient being, there must be such an 



82 THOUGHTS ON 

exertion of divine power as will remove it, and th 
regeneration. Then, all the effects of the truth will 
take place, as according to the former theory. But I 
seem to hear the common objection, that it" the soul be 
the subject of any operation, this must be physical, and 
what is this but to make man a mere machine, or to 
deal with him as if he were a block? 1 believe that a 
more ambiguous, unhappy word could not be used than 
physical; the best way to get clear of the mists which 
surround it, is to drop its use altogether in this con 
ion. Indeed, it is a term which properly be 
another science — to natural philosophy. If th< 
tion must have a name, let it receive it from the nature 
of the effect produced; this being spiritual, let il 
called a spiritual operation j or, as the effect produ 
is confessedly above the powers of unassisted nature, 
Let us call it supernatural^ which is the pn luii- 

cal term, used by the most accurate theologians. Can 

the Almighty, who made the soul, operate upon it in no 
other way than by a mechanical force ? Cannot he re- 
store its lost power of spiritual perception and suscepti- 
bility of holy feeling, without doing any violence to its 

free and spiritual nature? But I shall be told, that 
there neither is, nor can be, any moral or spiritual na- 
ture, or disposition prior to volition, in the mind — for 
morality consists, essentially, in choice ; and to suppose 
morality to have any other existence, than in the trans- 
ient act, is an absurdity. If tins be sound moral phi- 
losophy, then my theory must fall. This is a question 
not requiring or admitting of much reasoning. It is a 
subject for the intuitive judgment of the moral faculty. 
If there are minds so constituted, that they cannot con- 
ceive of permanent, latent dispositions in the soul, both 
good and evil, I can do no more than express my strong 
dissent from their opinion, and appeal to the common 
sense of mankind. 

Some of my most serious readers, I know, will ob- 
ject to my theory of the mind's operations, in one 
important particular. They are so far from thinking 
that any illumination of the mind will produce holy 
aftecaons, that it is a radical principle in their philos- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 83 

ophy of religion, that light always increases or stirs 
np the enmity of an unregenerate heart; that 
more unholy beings know of God, the more they 
will hate him, as is supposed to be proved by the ex- 
perience of thousands under conviction of sin ; and 
by the case of the devils who believe and tremble, 
but never love. The difference between me and these 
persons is not so great as at first view it seems. Their 
error consists, if I am right, in making too wide a 
severance between the understanding and the will; 
between the intellect and the affections. I am ready 
to admit that all the knowledge which you can com- 
municate to a man remaining unregenerate, may have 
the tendency of increasing or stirring up his enmity to 
God and his law ; but, observe, that I make illumina- 
tion the first effect of regeneration. And I hold that 
no unregenerate man is, while in that state, any more 
capable of spiritual perception than a blind man is of a 
perception of colours. The blind man, however, has 
his own ideas about colours, and may understand their 
various relations to each other, and all the laws which 
regulate the reflection and refraction of light as well as 
those who see. This was remarkably exemplified in 
the case of Dr. Sanderson, who, though blind from his 
early infancy, delivered an accurate course of lectures, 
on light and colours, in the University of Oxford. Just 
so, an unregenerate man maybe able to deliverable 
lectures on all the points in theology, and yet not have 
one glimpse of the beauty and glory of the truth, with 
which he is conversant. The sacred Scriptures re- 
present all unconverted men, as destitute of the true 
knowledge of God. If there be a clear truth in the 
laws of mental operation, it is, that the affections are 
in exact accordance with the views of the under- 
standing. If men are unaffected with the truth 
known, it must be because they do not know it 
aright : neither can they perceive it in its true nature 
until they are regenerated. Did any man ever see 
an object to be lovely and not feel an emotion cor- 
responding with that quality? And what unconvert- 
ed man ever beheld in Christ, as represented in Scrip- 



84 THOUGHTS ON 

ture, the beauty and glory of God ? Hence that doc- 
trine is not true, which confines depravity or holiness 
to the will; and which considers the understanding 
as a natural and the will as a moral faculty. The soul 
is not depraved or holy by departments; the disease 
affects it, as a soul; and of course all faculties em- 
ployed in moral exercises, must partake of their moral 
qualities. There is, however, no propriety in calling 
either of them a moral faculty; for although b 
understanding and will are concerned in every moral 
act, yet not one hundredth part of the acts of either 
partakes of a moral nature. The will is just as much 
a natural faculty as the understanding; and the un- 
derstanding is as much a moral faculty as the will. 
But in strict propriety of speech, the only faculty 
which deserves to he called a moral faculty is e 
science; because, by it only are we capable of moral 
perceptions or feelings. 

I am afraid that 1 have; gone too far into abstruse 
distinctions, for most of my readers; but there are 
thousands of plain, private Christians, in our country, 
who not only can enter into such disquisitions, but 
will relish them. 

I come now to what I intended when I began this 
subject, to describe as exactly as I can, what are the 
exercise- of the new heart, or the regenerate man. 
And here my appeal is to no theories, but to eX| eri- 
ence, combined with the word of God. Every man, 
on whom this divine operation has passed, experi- 
ences new views of divine truth. The soul sees, in 
these things, tlutt which it never saw before. It dis- 
cerns, in the truth of God, a beauty and excellence, 
of which it had no conception until now. Whatever 
may be the diversity in the clearness of the views of 
different persons, or in the particular truths brought 
before the mind, they all agree in this, that there is a 
new perception of truth; whether you ascribe it to 
the head or the heart, I care not. It is a blessed re- 
ality, and there are many witnesses of sound mind, 
and unquestionable veracity, who are ready to attest 
it as a verity, known in their own delightful experi- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 85 

<*nce. But, as the field of truth is very wide, and 
divine things may be perceived under innumerable 
aspects and relations, and as there is no uniformity in 
the particular objects which may first occupy the atten- 
tion of the enlightened mind, it is impossible to lay 
down any particular order of exercises which take 
place. The case may be illustrated by supposing a 
great multitude of blind persons restored to sight by 
an act of divine power. Some of them would be so 
situated, that the first object seen would be the glori- 
ous luminary of day ; another might receive the gift 
of sight in the night, and the moon and stars would 
absorb his wondering attention ; a third might direct 
his opened eyes to a beautiful landscape ; and a 
fourth might have but a ray of light shining into a 
dark dungeon without his knowing whence it came. 
Of necessity, there must be the same endless variety 
in the particular views of new converts; but still they 
all partake of new views of divine truth; and the 
same truths will generally be contemplated, sooner 
or later ; but not in the same order, nor exhibited to 
all with the same degree of clearness. Now, accord- 
ing to the views which I entertain, this spiritual 
knowledge granted to the regenerated soul is nothing 
else but saving faith ; for knowledge and belief in- 
volve each other. To know a thing and not believe 
it is a contradiction ; and to believe a thing and not 
know it is impossible. Faith is simply a belief of 
the truth, when viewed as distinct, and discriminated 
from all other mental acts. Some will be startled at 
this nakedness of faith ; and many will be ready to 
object, that it is to make faith to be no more than a 
bare assent of the understanding to the truth : well, 
if it be uniformly accompanied by all holy affections 
and emotions what is the difference ? But I deny that 
as described, it is a naked assent of the understand- 
ing, as those words are commonly understood. The 
wide distinction between the understanding and will, 
which has very much confounded our mental philo- 
sophy, has come down to us from the schoolmen. 
But in making the distinction, they made simple 

S 



86 THOUGHTS ON 

verity, the object of the understanding. And that is 
what we commonly mean by bar it; it relates 

to the simple truth ; but the will, lias n 
said, to good — every species of /nod. Now the faith 
of which I have spoken, at the same time contem- 
plates the truth, and the beauty, excellency, and good- 
ness of the object, and also its adaptedness to our 
necessities: all these things are comprehended in hie 
views which the Holy Spirit uives to the mind. 
Therefore, though faith be a simple uncompounded 
act, a firm belief, or persuasion, it comprehends the 
objects ascribed both to the understanding and tin; will. 
Here I shall he met by a definition of faith, which 
makes the net simple also, but considers that act to 
be trust or confidence. This the reader will remem- 
ber is \)v. D wight's definition o( Faith. And the 
only objection to it, is, that it is loo narrow to com- 
prehend all that belongs to the subject. Trust is noth- 
ing else than the linn belief or persuasion of the 
truth of a promise. When we say that we trust, or 
have confidence in a person, it relates to some pro- 
mise. This definition comprehends all acts of faith, 
which have a promise of God lor their object, and 
these are certainly the most important acts, and 
companied with the most sensible emotions. Hut all 
divine truth is not in the form of a promise. The 
Whole word of God is the proper object of a true 
faith; and a large part of divine revelation is taken 
up with histories, prophecies, doctrines, and precepts. 
The Christian believes all these, as well as the pro- 
mises.' 

Here faith is the first act of the regenerated soul; 
and the most important act, for it draws all holy 
affections and emotions in its train. But though it 
sweetly mingles with every other grace, it is distinct 
from them all. All its diversified acts arise from the 
nature of the truths believed, and men may enume- 
rate and name as many of these acts as they please ; 
still the nature of faith remains simple. It is a firm 
persuasion or belief of the truth, apprehended under 
the illumination of the Holy Spirit. It necessaril 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 87 

works by love and purifies the heart, for divine things 
thus discerned, cannot but excite the affections to holy 
objects, by which sinful desires and appetites will be 
subdued; and when we are persuaded of the truth of 
God's gracious promises, there will always be a sweet 
repose of soul, because the promises contain the very 
blessings which we need ; and to be assured that there 
are such blessings for all who will receive them, and 
especially if the soul is conscious that it is exercising 
faith, will produce sweet consolation — There is u joy 
and peace in believing." 

According to the view of faith now given, there is 
nothing mysterious about it. To believe in divine 
truth is an act of the mind, precisely the same as to 
believe in other truth; and the difference between a 
saving faith and a historical or merely speculative 
faith, consists not in the truths believed, for in both 
they are the same ; nor in the degree of assent given 
to the proposition, but in the evidence on which they 
are respectively founded. A saving faith is produced 
by the manifestation of the truth, in its true nature to 
the mind, which now apprehends it, according to the 
degree of faith, in its spiritual qualities, its beauty, 
and glory, and sweetness ; whereas a historical or 
speculative faith may rest on the prejudices of edu- 
cation, or the deductions of reason; but in its exer- 
cise, there is no conception of the true qualities of 
divine things. The humblest, weakest believer pos- 
sesses a knowledge of God, hidden from the wisest 
of enlightened men ; according to that saying of 
Christ, " I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and 
earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise 
and prudent, and hast revealed them to babes." 

On the subject of experimental religion our depen- 
dence must not be on the theories of men, but on the 
unerring word of God, and on the facts which have 
been observed in the experience of true Christians. 
In the exercises of new converts there is, in some re- 
spects, a remarkable similarity, and in others a remark- 
able variety. All are convinced of sin, not only of 
life but of heart. All are brought to acknowledge 



88 THOUGHTS OX 

the justice of God, in their condemnation, and to fcet 
that they might be left to perish, without any d< 
gation from the perfections of God; and thai they 
have no ability to bring God under any obligations to 
save them, by their prayers, tears, or other religious 
duties. All true Christians, moreover, love the truth 
which has been revealed to their minds, and are led 
to trust in Christ alone for salvation; and they all 
hunger and thirst after righteousness, and resolve to 
devote themselves to the service of God, and prefer 
his glory above their chief joy. But, besides th 
varieties already described, as arising from several 
causes, there is often much difference in their exerci- 
ses, arising from the particular truths which they are 
led to contemplate when their eyes are first opened. 
J do not mean to L r <> over the ground which we i 
already passed, otherwise than by a statement of tacts 
from authentic sources, which may serve to corrobor- 
ate and illustrate the Statements already given. Per- 
haps no man, who has lived in modern times, has had 

a better opportunity to form an accurate judgment of 

facts of this kind, than President Edwards; and few 
men, who ever lived, were better qualified to discrim- 
inate between true and false religion. It is a thing 
much to be prized, that this great and good man has 

left a record of that most remarkable revival which 
took place in Northampton, New England, in the year 

1734 and onwards. This narrative was written soon 
afterwards, and was communicated to Dr Watts and 
Dr. Guyse, who united in a preface which accompa- 
nied the narrative, when published in London. In 
this account, carefully drawn up, we have a satisfac- 
tory account of the exercises of the subjects of the 
work, with the varieties which were observed in the 
experience of different persons. The leading 1 
have here been selected from the narrative, so as to 
occupy the least possible room. To any, who 1 
an interest in this subject, these facts cannot but be 
gratifying; and however the narrative may have been 
perused by some, yet it will not be disagreeable to 
'hem to ha.ve some of the prominent traits of the 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 89 

religious exercises, at that time, presented to them in 
a condensed form. Mr. Edwards informs us, "that 
there was scarcely a single person in the town, old or 
young, left unconcerned about the great things of the 
eternal world ;" and although he does not pretend to 
know the precise number of converts, he is of opinion 
that it could not be less, in the judgment of charity, 
than three hundred. Our object is not to abridge the 
narrative, but merely to select, the account of the vari 
ety of exercises experienced, as there given. "There 
is a great variety," says he, " as to the degree of 
trouble and fear, that persons are exercised with, be- 
fore they attain any comfortable evidence of pardon 
and acceptance with God. Some are from the begin- 
ning carried on with abundantly more hope and en- 
couragement than others. Some have had ten times 
less trouble than others, in whom the work yet ap- 
pears the same in the issue The awful apprehen- 
sions persons have had of their misery have, for the 
most part, been increasing, the nearer they have ap- 
proached to deliverance. Sometimes they think them- 
selves wholly senseless, and fear that the Spirit of God 
has left them, and that they are given up to judicial 
hardness, yet they appear very deeply exercised with 
that fear, and in great earnestness to obtain conviction 
again. Many times, persons under great awakenings 
were concerned because they thought they were not 
awakened, but miserably hard-hearted, senseless, sot- 
tish creatures still, and sleeping on the brink of hell 

Persons are sometimes brought to the borders of des- 
pair, and it looks as black as midnight to them, a 
little before the day dawns on their souls. The de- 
pravity of the heart has discovered itself in various 
exercises, in the time of legal convictions. Some- 
times it appears as in a great struggle, like something 
roused by an enemy. Many, in such circumstances, 
have felt a great spirit of envy towards the godly; es- 
pecially towards those thought to have been recently 
converted. As they are gradually more and more 
convinced of the corruption and wickedness of their 
hearts, they seem to themselves to grow worse and 

8* 



90 THOUGHTS ON 

worse, harder and blinder, more desperately wicked 

instead of growing better When awakenings first 

begin, their consciences are commonly more exercised 
about their outward vicious courses, but afterwards 
are much more burdened with a sense of heart sins, 
the dreadful corruption of their nature, their enmity 
against God, the pride of their hearts, their unbelief, 
their rejection of Christ, the stubbornness of their will. 

and the like Very often, under first awakenii 

they set themselves to walk more strictly, coi 
their sins, and perform many religious duties, with a 
secret hope of appeasing God's anger. And some- 
times, at first setting out, their affections are so moved. 
that they are full of tears, in their confessions and 
prayers, which they are ready to make much of, 
if they were some atoi iement, and conceive that they 
grow better apace, and shall soon be converted; but 
their affections and ho • short-lived, for they 

quickly find that they fail, and then they think them- 
selves to be grown woi in. When they reflect 
on the wicked working of their hearts against G 
they have more distressing apprehensions of Ins an§ 

and have great fears that God will never show nx 

to them; or perhaps, that they have committed the 
unpardonable sin. and are often tempted to leave off 

in despair When they begin to seek- salvation, 

they are commonly profoundly ignorant of themselves* 
They are not sensible how blind they are, and how 
little they can do, to bring themselves to see spiritual 
things aright, and towards putting forth gracious ex- 
ercises in their own souls. When they see unexpect- 
ed pollution in themselves, they go about to wash 
their own defilements and make themselves clean ; 
and they weary themselves in vain, till God shows 
them that it is in vain; and that their help is not 
where they have sought it. But some persons con- 
tinue to wander in such a labyrinth ten times as long 
as others, before their own experience will convince 
them of their own insufficiency — so that it is not their 
own experience at last, that convinces them, but the 
Spirit of God. There have been some who have 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 91 

not had great- terrors, but yet have had a very quick 
work. Some, who have not had very deep convic 
tions before their conversion, have much more of it 
afterwards. God has appeared far from limiting him- 
self to any certain method, in his proceedings with 
sinners, under legal convictions. There is in nothing 
a greater difference in different persons, than with 
respect to the time of their being under trouble : 
som4 but a few days, and others for months and 
years. As to those in whom legal convictions seem 
to have a saving issue, the first thing that appears 
after their trouble, is a conviction of the justice of God 
in their condemnation, from a sense of their exceeding 
sinfulness. Commonly, their minds, immediately be- 
fore the discovery of God's justice, are exceedingly 
restless — in a kind of struggle or tumult; and some- 
times in mere anguish ; but commonly, as soon as 
they have this conviction, it immediately brings their 
minds to a calm and unexpected quietness and compo 
sure ; and most frequently, then, though not always, 
the pressing weight upon their spirits is taken off; or 
a general hope arises, that some time God will be 
gracious, even before any distinct, particular discove- 
ries of mercy. Commonly, they come to a conclusion, 

that they will lie at God's feet and wait Ids time 

That calm of spirit which succeeds legal conviction, 
in some instances, continues some time before any 
special and delightful manifestation is made to the 
soul, of the grace of God, as revealed in the gospel. 
But, very often some comfortable and sweet views of 
a merciful God, of a sufficient Redeemer, or of some 
great and joyful things of the gospel, immediately 
follow, or in a very little time. And in some, the 
first sight of their desert of hell, of God's sovereignty 
in regard to their salvation, and a discovery of- all- 
sufficient grace, are so near, that they seem to go 
together. The gracious discoveries, whence the first 
special comforts are derived, are, in many respects, 
very various. More frequently, Christ is distinctly 
made the object of the mind, in his all -sufficiency and 
willingness to save sinners ; but some have their 



92 THOI GMTS ON 

thoughts more especially fixed on God, in some of 
his sweet and glorious attributes, manifested in the 
Gospel and shining forth of Jesus Christ. Some i 
the all-sufficiency of the grace o( God — some chiefly, 
the infinite power of God and his ability to save them, 
and to do all things for them — and some look most to 
the truth and faithfulness of God. In some, the truth 
and certainty of the Gospel, in general, is the firs! 
joyful discovery they have : in others, the certain 
proof of some, particular promise. In some, tl 
and sincerity of God, in his invitations, very com- 
monly, in some particular invitation, is before the 
mind. Some are struck with the glory and wonder- 
fulness of the dying love of Chrisl ; and others with 
the sufficiency of his Mood, as offered to make an 
atonement for sin ; and others again, with the value 
and -lory of his obedience and righteousness. In 
many, the excellency and loveliness of Christ chiefly 
engage their thoughts, while in some, his divinity; 
bsing filled with the idea, thai He is indeed the Son 
of the living God; and in others, the excellency of 
the way of salvation by Christ, and the suitablei 

of it to tlnir necessities There is often in the mind, 

some particular text of Scripture, holding forth some 
particular ground of consolation; at other times, a 
multitude of texts, gracious invitations, and prom 
flowing in one after another, filling the soul more and 
more with comfort and satisfaction. Comfort is I 
given to some while reading some portion of Scripture; 
but in others, it is attended with no particular Scripture 
at all. In some instances, many divine things s><>\u to 
be discovered to the soul at once ; while others have 
fneir minds fixed on some one thing; and afterwards 
a sense of others is given ; in some, with a slower, in 
others, a swifter succession. 

"It. must be confessed, that Christ is not always 
distinctly and explicitly thought of in the first sensible 
act of grace — though most commonly lie is — but some- 
times he is the object of the mind only implicitly. 
Thus when persons have evidently appeared stripped 
of their own righteousness, and have stood condemn- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 93 

ed, as guilty of death, they have been comforted with 
a joyful and satisfactory evidence, that the mercy 
and grace of God is sufficient for them — that their 
sins, though never so great, shall be no hindrance to 
their being accepted — that there is mercy enough in 
God for. the whole world, &c. — while they give no ac- 
count of any particular or distinct thought of Christ ; 
but yet it appears, that the revelation of mercy, in the 
gospel, is the ground of their encouragement and 
hope ; yet such persons afterwards obtain distinct and 
clear discoveries of Christ, accompanied with lively 
and special actings of faith and love towards him. 
Frequently, when persons have had the gospel ground 
of relief opened to them, and have been entertaining 
their minds with the sweet prospect, they have thought 
nothing at that time of their being converted. The 
view is joyful to them as it is in its own nature glori 
ous; gives them quite new and delightful ideas of 
God and Christ, and greatly encourages them to seek 
conversion, and begets in them a strong resolution to 
devote themselves to God and his Son. There is 
wrought m them a holy repose of soul in God through 
Christ, with a secret disposition to fear and love him, 
and to hope for blessings from him in this way, yet 
they have no conception that they are now converted; 
it does not so much as come into their minds. They 
know not that the sweet complacence they feel in the 
mercy and complete salvation of God, as it includes 
pardon and sanctification, and is held forth to them 
through Christ, is a true receiving of this mercy, or a 
plain evidence of their receiving it. Many continue 
a long time in a course of gracious exercises and ex- 
periences, and do not think themselves to be convert- 
ed, but conclude otherwise ; and none knows how 
long they would continue so, were they not helped 
by particular instructions. There are undoubted in- 
stances of some who lived in this way for many years 
together. Those who, while under legal convictions, 
have had the greatest terrors, have not always ob- 
tained the greatest light and comfort ; nor has the 
light always been most speedily communicated; bu> 



94 THOUGHTS OH 

yet I think the time of conversion has been most sen- 
sible in such persons. Converting influences com 
monly bring an extraordinary conviction of the cer- 
tainty and reality of the great things of religion j though 
in some, this is much greater, sometime after conver- 
sion, than at first." 

The religious exercises, contained in the preceding 
statement, will not be new to those who have been at 
all conversant with revivals. Such will recognize, in 
the account, what they have observed, and will be 
gratified to find the same facts which they h 
served, recorded and published by such a master in 
Israel. Almost the only remark which i feel dispi 
to make, is, that it is too commonly supposed that the 
time of receivii ort, is always the tira 

generation; whereas, this might rather be termed the 
time of conversion ; for then the i . 
newed soul came to a crisis, and faith, which was 
oefore weak and obscure, shines forth with vigour. 
Perhaps it is the prevalent opinion among orthodox 
writers, that the first views of the renovated soul are 
views of Christ ; and when mere l< S arc 

immediately followed by such views and their attend- 
ant consolations, this opinion may be correct; but in 
many cases, it is reasonable to believe, that the con- 
victions experienced are those of the true penitent. 
And as, in almost all eases here recorded and observ- 
ed by others, there is a distinct view and approbation 
of God's justice in the condemnation of the sinner, 1 
cannot but think, agreeably to what was staled in a 
former chapter, that the soul has passed from death 
unto life, before these feelings are experienced; and 
that may help to account for the remarkable calm 
which now succeeds the dark and stormy night. This 
revelation of Jesus Christ in the believer, may he 
compared to the birth of a child into tin. 1 light of this 
world; but its conception was long before. And so 
this interesting point in experience is the new birth, 
but the principle of spiritual life commonly exists be- 
fore. Besides, comfort is no sure evidence of a genu- 
ine birth ; some who become strong men in the Lord 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 95 

are born in sorrow. They weep before they are able 
to smile ; but, in the spiritual birth, joy and sorrow 
often sweetly mingle their streams. 

There are two reasons why faith, though one of 
the simplest exercises of the mind, is represented as 
having so many different acts; the one is, the great 
variety in the truths believed ; and the other, that, 
commonly, various exercises are included in the ac- 
count of faith, which do always accompany or follow 
a true faith, but do not appertain to its essence. As 
faith has all revealed truth for its object, the feelings 
produced in the mind correspond with the particular 
nature of the truth which is, at any time, in the con- 
templation of the mind. If, by the soul under the 
illumination of the Holy Spirit, the law is viewed in 
its spirituality and moral excellence, while there will 
be experienced an approbation of the will of God 
thus expressed, yet a lively sense of the sinfulness of 
our hearts and lives, must be the predominant feel- 
ing. This discovery of the purity of the law, and 
this deep feeling of the evil of sin, commonly precede 
any clear view of Christ, and the plan of salvation; and 
this has given rise to the prevalent opinion, that re- 
pentance goes before faith in the natural order of 
pious exercises. But, according to our idea of faith, 
as given above, it must necessarily precede and be 
the cause of every other gracious exercise. Com- 
monly, indeed, when we speak of faith, we describe 
its maturity ; but there are often many obscure but 
real acts of faith, before the soul apprehends the ful- 
ness, and excellency, and suitableness of Christ. And 
in many cases, when some view of the plan of salva- 
tion is obtained, the single truth believed is, the ability 
of Christ to save ; and even the full persuasion of this 
gives rise to joy, when the soul has been long cast 
down with gloomy forebodings of everlasting misery, 
and with the apprehension that, for such a sinner, 
there was no salvation. As faith does no more than 
bring the truth before the mind in its true nature, 
every act of faith must, of course, be characterized by 
the qualities of the truth thus presented, and by its 



96 THOUGHTS ON 

adaptation to the circumstances and convictions ol 
the sinner. All those acts of faith which bring the 
extent and spirituality of the law of God fully into 
view must be accompanied with painful emotions 
account of the deep conviction of disconformity to 
that perfect rule, which cannot but be experiei 
when that object is before the mind. Hut all those 
invitations; promises, and declarations which exhibit 
a Saviour, and the method of r< covery, when truly 
believed, und( r a just apprehension of their nature, 
mus! be accompanied, not only with love, but joy, 
and hope, and a free consent to be saved in (. 
appointed way; and when the previous distress and 
discourage men l have been great, and the views of 
gospel truth clear, the joy is overflowing, and as long 
as these views are unclouded, peace flows like a river. 
But even in the discoveries which faith makes of 
Christ, there is a great variety in the extent 
combination of divine truth which comes before the 
mind al any one tunc. Probably no two persons, in 
Dfelieving, have precisely the same truths in all their 
relations, presented to them; and not only so, but it is 

hardly credible, that the same believer, m his various 
contemplations of divine truth, takes in exactly the 
same field of view at different times. Hence it ap- 
pears, that the whole' power of faith is derived from 
the importance, excellence, amiableneSS, and suitable- 
ness of the truths believed. And when faith is "im- 
puted tor righteousness," it is not the simple act of 
faith which forms a righteousness. If any i 
of the renewed mind could constitute a righteous] 
it would be love — which according to its strength, is 
"the fulfilling of the law ;" but when the soul by faith 
is fully persuaded that Christ is the end of the iaw 
for righteousness, this righteousness of the Surety, 
when received by faith, is imputed ; and by this alone, 
which is perfect, can God be just in justifying the 
ungodly. " Faith thus receiving and resting on Christ 
and his righteousness, is the alone instrument of justi- 
fication; yet is not alone in the person justified, but 
is ever accompanied with all other saving 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 97 

and is no dead faith : but worketh by love." " By 
this faith, a Christian believeth to be true, whatsoever 
is revealed in the word, for the authority of God him- 
self speaking therein; and acteth differently, upon that 
which each particular passage thereof containeth ; 
yielding obedience to the commands, trembling at the 
threatenings, and embracing the promises of God for 
this life, and that which is to come. But the princi- 
pal acts of faith are, accepting and resting upon Christ 
alone for justification, sanctification, and eternal life, 
by virtue of the covenant of grace." This quotation, 
taken from a formulary, known to many of my read- 
ers, contains as just and comprehensive a view of the 
nature of saving faith as could be given in words. 

But another reason why so many divine acts are 
attributed to faith is, because other exercises are in- 
cluded in the description of faith, which though they 
always accompany it, ought not to be confounded 
with it. It was, two hundred years ago, a question 
much agitated among the divines of Holland, whether 
love or charity entered into the essence of faith ? And 
in our own country, faith and love have not been 
kept distinct. A very prevalent system of theology 
makes the essence of faith to be love. Much evil 
arises from confounding what are so clearly distin- 
guished in the word of God. If faith and love were 
identical, how could it be said that " faith works by 
love?" The apostle Paul speaks of faith, hope, and 
charity, or love, as so distinct, that, although they are 
all necessary, they may be compared, as to excel- 
lency — " The greatest of these is charity." The cele- 
brated Witsius, in his " Economy of the Covenants," 
in describing faith, among the various acts which he 
attributes to this divine principle, reckons " love of 
the truth," and " hungering and thirsting after Christ." 
Now, it is an abuse of language to say that faith loves 
or desires ; faith works by love, and excites hungering 
aud thirsting desires after Christ. But, it may be asked, 
if these graces are inseparably connected, why be so 
solicitous to distinguish them ? First, because in so 
doing, we follow the sacred writers; secondly, be- 

9 



98 THOUGHTS ON 

cause it has a bad effect to use a Scriptural word to 
express what it was never designed to express; and, 
thirdly, because of the special office of faith in a sin- 
ner's justification; in which neither love, nor any 
other grace has any part, although they are the effects 
of faith. When love is confounded with a justifying 
faith, it is very easy to slide into the opinion that as 
love is the substance of evangelical obedience, when 
we are said to be justified by faith, the meaning is, 
that we are justified by our own obedience. And 
accordingly, in a certain system of divinity, valued 
by many, in this country, the matter is thus stated: 
faith is considered a comprehensive term for all 
evangelical obedience. The next step is — and it has 
already been taken by some — that our obedience is 
meritorious, and when its defects are purged by aton- 
ing blood, it is sufficient to procure for us a title to 
eternal life. Thus have some, boasting of the name' 
of Protestants, worked around, until they have fallen 
upon one of the most offensive tenets of Popery. Hut, 
it would be difficult to bring a true penitent to enter- 
tain the opinion, that his own works were meritori- 
ous, or could, in the least, recommend him to God. 
The whole of God's dealings with the souls of his 
own people, effectually dispel from their minds every 
feeling of this kind. The very idea of claiming merit 
is most abhorrent to their feelings. 

But while it is of importance to distinguish faith 
from every other grace, yet it is necessary to insist 
on the fact, that that faith, which does not produce 
love and other holy affections, is not a genuine faith 
In the apostles' days, a set of libertines arose, who 
boasted of their faith, but they performed no good 
works to evince the truth of their faith. Against 
such the apostle James writes, and" proves that such 
i faith was no better than that of devils, and would 
justify no man; that the faith of Abraham and other 
believers, which did justify, was not a dead faith, but 
living; not a barren faith, but productive of good 
works, and proved itself to be genuine by the acts 
of duty which it induced the believer to perform 












RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 99 

While then faith stands foremost in the order of gra- 
cious exercises, because it is necessary to the exist- 
ence of every other, love may be said to be the cen- 
tre, around which all the virtues of the Christian re- 
volve, and from which they derive their nature. 
Love, of some kind, is familiar to the experience of 
all persons ; and all love is attended with some plea- 
sure in its exercise ; but it varies on account of the 
difference of the objects of affection. Divine love is 
itself a delightful and soul-satisfying exercise. The 
soul which has tasted the goodness of God, is con- 
vinced, that nothing more is necessary to complete 
felicity, than the perfection of love. This supposes, 
however, that our love to God is ever accompanied 
with some sense of his love to us. Love, unless reci- 
procated, would not fill up the cup of human happi- 
ness. But to love, and be beloved, this is heaven. 
And " we love Him because he first loved us." In 
the first exercises of a renewed mind, love to God and 
love to man are both brought into action; but often the 
prospect of deliverance from eternal misery which 
threatened, may absorb the attention. It is indeed a 
marvellous deliverance, to be snatched from the verge 
of hell, and assured of everlasting life; what a tumult 
of feeling must it create? But notwithstanding this, 
it frequently happens, that in the first discoveries of 
the plan of salvation, the soul loses sight of its own 
interest, and is completely occupied in contemplating 
and admiring the wisdom, love, and justice of God, 
as exhibited in the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
Indeed, the believer, when these spiritual discoveries 
are afforded, thinks nothing of the nature of those acts 
which he is exercising ; and it may not be till long 
afterwards, that he recognizes these outgoings of soul 
to be true love to the Saviour. 

There are two affections, distinct from each other in 
their objects, which are included under the term love , 
the one terminates on the goodness or moral excel- 
lence of its object, and varies according to the particu- 
lar view, at any time enjoyed, of the divine attributes. 
This comprehends all pious affections and emotions 



100 THOUGHTS ON 

arising from the contemplation 'of the perfections of 
God; and some of them, such as reverence and humi 
lity, would not fall under the name of love, when 
taken in a strict sense; but when used as a genera. 
term for our whole obedience, it must comprehend 
them all. This may, for convenience, be called the 
love of complacency , in which the rational soul de- 
lights in the character of God as revealed in his word. 
The other affection, called love, has not the character 
of the person beloved for its object, but his happin 
It may be intensely exercised towards those in whose 
moral qualities there can be no complacency, and is 
called the love of benevolence. God's love to sin 
ners is of this kind ; and this is the kind of love which 
Christians are hound to exercise to all men in the 
world, even to those that hate and persecute them. 
Though the love of benevolence may exist without 
the love of complacency, yet the converse cannot be 
asserted. No one ever felt love to the character of 
another without desiring his happiness. Before con- 
version, the soul is sordidly selfish, but no sooner d 
this change take place, than the heart begins to he 
enlarged with an expansive benevolence. The whole 
world is embraced in its charity. "Good will to 
man" is a remarkable characteristic of the "new 
creature;" and this intense desire for the salvation of 
our fellow men, and ardent wish that they may ail 
become interested in that Saviour, whom we hi 
ound to be so precious, is the true source of the mis- 
sionary spirit, and is the foundation, often, of labo- 
rious and long continued exertions to prepare for the 
holy ministry; and prompts and inclines delicate fe- 
males to. consent to leave all the endearments of home, 
for arduous labour in a foreign, and sometimes a 
savage land. 

But, however lively the affection of love in the ex 
ercises of the real Christian, he never can lose sight oi 
his own unworthiness. Indeed, the brighter his dis- 
coveries of the divine glory, and the stronger his love, 
the deeper are his views of the turpitude of sin. The 
more he is elevated in affection and assured hope, the 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 101 

deeper is he depressed in humility and self-abasement. 
His penitential feelings, from the nature of the case, 
keep pace with his love and joy; and when his tears 
flow in copious showers, he would be at a loss to tell, 
whether he was weeping for joy or for sorrow. He 
might say, for both ; for in these pious exercises, these 
opposite emotions sweetly mingle their streams ; and 
so delightful is this mingling of affections naturally 
opposite, that the person could hardly be persuaded, 
that the sweet would be as agreeable without, as with, 
the bitter. One hour spent under the cross, while the 
soul is thus elevated, thus abased — thus joyful, and 
thus sorrowful — is better than a thousand of earthly 
delights. Observe, Bunyan does not make the burden 
of Christian fall off instantly on his entering in at the 
strait gate ; but when, as he travelled, he came in 
sight of the cross. Then, in a moment, those cords 
which had bound it to his back, and which none could 
'loose, were burst asunder, and his burden fell off, and 
never was fastened on him again; although he lay so 
long in the prison of Giant Despair. The feelings of 
a renewed heart, are never afterwards the same as 
under legal conviction. There are scenes, in the ex- 
perience of the lively Christian, of which the wise 
men of the world never dream; and which, if they 
were told of them, they would not believe ; and 
these things, while they are hidden from the wise and 
prudent, are revealed unto babes. The secret of the 
Lord is with them that fear him. The soul, which 
has thus returned from its wanderings to the Bishop 
and Shepherd, feels under the strongest obligations to 
live for God — to deny itself — to forsake the world — 
to do any thing — be any thing — or suffer any thing, 
which may be for the honour of its divine Master. 
Hence a new life commences — a new spirit is mani- 
fested — and the new man, maugre all his remaining 
ignorance and imperfection, gives lucid evidence to all 
who carefully observe him, that he has been wim 
Jesus, and has been baptized with the Holy Ghost ; 
and, the more frequently these views and exercises 
are reiterated, the more spiritual and heavenly is his 



102 THOUGHTS ON 

conversation. This is a light tfhich cannot be hid 
and which ought to shine more and more unto the 
perfect day. Hear then the exhortation of the apos- 
tle Jude, •• Bui ye, "heloved, building up yourselves on 
your rnosl holy faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep 
yourselves in the love of God, looking tor the mercy 
of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life." 



CHAPTER VII. 

Considerations on dreams, visions eYc. — Remarkable converaion of a blind 
infidel from bearing the Bible read 

Thehk are many professors of religion in our coun- 
try, who, if they should peruse this work would ima- 
gine a great detect in the account given of a sinner's 

conversion, because nothing has been said about ' 
dreams and visions, or voices and lights, o\ a super- 
natural kind. During the various religious excite- 
ments which extended over the Southern States, un- 
der the preaching o( different denominations, there 
was mingled with the good influence by which sin- 
ners were convened and reformed, no small degree 
of enthusiasm, which led the people to seek and 
pect extraordinary revelations, which were supposed 
to be granted in dreams or visions. Indeed, at owe 
time, the leaders in a very general excitement, which 
occurred in Virginia, about the commencement of the 
Revolutionary war, were impressed with the idea, 
that they possessed precisely the same gifts and 
powers which had been bestowed upon the apostles; 
and this enthusiastic idea would have spread widely, 
if they had not failed, in some private attempts, to 
work miracles. But the opinion, that certain persons 
had an extraordinary call from God to preach, and 
that they needed neither learning nor study, to enable 
them to preach the gospel, continued to prevail for a 
longtime; and this species of enthusiasm is not en- 
tirely passed away even to this day. Such preachers 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 103 

were much in the habit of declaiming in every ser- 
mon, against letter-learned and college-bred ministers, 
and they seldom failed to inform their hearers, that 
they had selected the subject of discourse, after enter- 
ing the pulpit; and some of them even gloried that 
they had never learned to read, as they believed, that 
all learning interfered with the inspiration of the 
Spirit, which they were confident that they possessed. 
While this notion of an extraordinary call and imme- 
diate inspiration was common, it is not surprising 
that the people should have entertained wild opinions 
respecting the nature of conversion. As it was cus- 
tomary to give the narratives of religious experience 
in public, not only in the presence of the church, but 
of a promiscuous assembly, there was a strong temp- 
tation to tell an extraordinary story ; and the more 
miraculous it was, the higher evidence it was sup- 
posed to afford of being the work of God ; concern- 
ing the genuineness of which the subject never ex- 
pressed a doubt. Seldom was a narrative of experience 
heard, which did not contain something supernatural - 7 
such as a remarkable prophetic dream; an open vi- 
sion ; a sudden and brilliant light shining around, 
as in the case of Paul ; or an audible voice, calling 
them by name, or uttering some text of Scripture, 
or some other encouraging words. Sometimes, how- 
ever, the cause of experimental religion was sadly 
dishonoured by the ludicrous stories of poor ignorant 
people — especially the unlettered slaves; for this 
religious concern seized upon them with mighty force, 
and many of them, I doubt not, were savingly con- 
verted. 

The philosophy of dreams is very little understood : 
and it is not our purpose to entertain or perplex the 
reader with any theories on the subject. Dreams have 
oy some been divided into natural, divine, and dia- 
bolical. The wise man says, " A dream comet b 
through the multitude of business." Most dream? 
are undoubtedly the effect of the previous state of 
the mind, and of the peculiar circumstances and state 
of the body, at the time. Most persons find then 



104 THOUGHTS ON 

thoughts, in sleep, occupied with those things which 
gave them concern when awake ; and every cause 
which disorders the stomach or nerves, gives a cha- 
racter to our dreams. Most persons have experi 
enced the distress of feverish dreams. But there 
are sometimes remarkable dreams, which leave on 
the mind the strong impression that they have a 
meaning, and portend coming events. And that there 
have been dreams of this description, we learn from 
the authority of the Bible; and these prophetic dreams 
were not confined to the servants of God, as we learn 
from the instances of the butler and baker, in the 
prison of Pharaoh, and from the remarkable dream 

of Pharaoh himself. All these must have proceeded 
from some supernatural influence, as, when interpreted 

by Joseph, they clearly predicted fuiure events, of 
which the persons dreaming had no! the least know- 
ledge. So, Nebuchadnezzar's dream contained a sym- 
bolical representation of future events of great impor- 
tance, which, however, neither he nor Ins wise men 
understood, but which was interpreted by Daniel, by 
divine inspiration. Why God so frequently made his 
communications to his servants by dreams, is not 
easily explained. Perhaps, the mind is better pre- 
pared for such revelations, when external objects are 
entirely excluded; or, it might have been to obviate 
that terror and perturbation to which all men w 
subject, when an angel or spirit appeared to them. 
Whether God ever now communicates any thing by- 
dreams is much disputed. Many, no doubt, deceive 
themselves, by fancying that their dreams are super- 
natural; and some have been sadly deluded by trust- 
ing to dreams ; and certainly people ought not to be 
encouraged to look for revelations in dreams. But there 
is nothing inconsistent with reason or Scripture, in sup 
posing, that, on some occasions, certain communica- 
tions, intended for the warning or safety of the indi- 
vidual himself, or of others, may be made in dreams. 
To doubt of this, is to run counter to a vast body of 
testimony in every age. And if ideas, received in 
dreams, produce a salutary effect, in rendering the 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 105 

careless serious, or the sorrowful comfortable, in 
the view of divine truth, very w*ell ; such dreams 
may be considered providential, if not divine But 
if any are led by dreams, to pursue a course repug- 
nant to the dictates of common sense or the pre- 
cepts of Scripture, such dreams may rightly be con- 
sidered diabolical. Some persons have supposed 
that they experienced a change of mind while asleep. 
They have gone to rest with a heart unsubdued and 
unconverted, and their first waking thoughts have been 
of faith and love. Some have sunk to sleep, worn 
down with distress, and in their sleep have received 
comfort, as they supposed, from a believing view of 
Christ. Such changes are suspicious ; but if they are 
proved to be genuine by the future life of the person, 
we should admit the possibility of God's giving a new 
heart, just as he does to the infant. Or, truth may be 
as distinctly impressed on persons' minds in sleep, as 
when they are awake. Some persons appear to have 
their faculties in more vigorous exercise, i 1 some kinds 
of sleep, than when their senses are all exercised. 
The Rev. John Fletcher, vicar of Madely, relates that 
he had a dream of the judgment day, the effect of 
which was a deep and abiding impression of eternal 
things on his mind. As the scene was vividly paint- 
ed on his imagination, and the representation of truth 
was as distinct and coherent as if he had been awake, 
it may be gratifying to the reader to have the account 
of it, set before him. He had been variously exer 
cised about religion before this. " I was," says he, 
"in this situation, when a dream, in which I am 
obliged to acknowledge the hand of God, roused me 
from my security. On a sudden, the heavens were 
darkened, and clouds rolled along in terrific majesty, 
and a thundering voice like a trumpet, which pene 
trated to the bowels of the earth, exclaimed, ■ arise 
ye dead and come out of your graves.' Instantly the 
earth and the sea gave up the dead which they con- 
tained, and the universe was crowded with living 
people who appeared to come out of their graves by 
millions But what a difference among them ! Some, 



106 THOUGHTS ON 

convulsed with despair, endeavoured in vain >o hide 
themselves in their tombs, and cried to the hills to fall 
on them, and the mountains to cover them from 
face of the holy Judge ; while others rose with seraphic 
wings above the earth which had been the theatre 
of their conflicts and their victory. Serenity waft 
painted on their countenances, joy sparkled in their 
eyes, and dignity was impressed on every feature. 
My astonishment and terror were redoubled when I 
perceived mysell raised up with this innumerable 
multitude into the vast regions of the air, from 
whence my affrighted eyes beheld this con- 

sumed by the flames, the heavens on lire and the 
dissolving elements ready to pass away. Hut what 
did 1 feel, when I beheld the Son of man Coining m 
the clouds of heaven, in all the splendour ol his glory, 
crowned with the chirms of his mercy, and surround- 
ed with the terrors of his justice; ten thousand thou- 
sands went before 4 him, and millions pressed upon his 
footsteps. All nature was silent. 'Flic wicked w 
condemned, and the sentence was pronounced — the 
air gave way under the feet of those who surrounded 
me, a yawning gulf received them and closed upon 
them. At the same time He that sal upon the throne 
exclaimed, < Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit 
the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of 
the world. Happy children of God ! I cried, You 
are exalted in triumph with your Redeemer, and 
my dazzled eyes will soon lose sight of you, in the 
blaze of light which surrounds you. Wretch that I 
am, what words can express the horrors of my situa- 
tion ! A fixed and severe look from the Judge, as he 
departed, pierced me to the heart, and my anguish 
and confusion were extreme, when a brilliant per- 
sonage despatched from the celestial host, thus ad- 
dressed me, 6 Slothful servant, what dost thou here? 
Dost thou presume to follow the Son of God, whom 
thou hast served merely with thy lips, while thy 



RELIGIONS EXPERIENCE. lL>7 

real love to God, and a living faith in his Son ? Ask 
thy conscience what were the motives of thy pretend 
ed good works? Dost thou not see that pride and 
se.f-love were the source of them? Dost thou not see 
that the fear of hell rather than the fear of offending 
God, restrained thee from sin ? ' After these words 
he paused ; and regarding me with a compassionate 
air, seemed to await my reply. But conviction and 
terror closed my mouth, and he thus resumed his dis- 
course, ' Withhold no longer from God the glory 
which is due him. Turn to him with all thy heart, 
and become a new creature. Watch and pray, was 
the command of the Son of God ; but instead of hav- 
ing done this by working out thy salvation with fear 
and trembling, thou hast slept the sleep of security. 
At this very moment dost thou not sleep in that state 
of lethargy and spiritual death, from which the word 
of God, the exhortations of his servants, and the striv- 
ings of his grace have not been sufficient to deliver 
thee? Time is swallowed up in eternity. There is 
no more place for repentance. Thou hast obstinately 
refused to glorify God's mercy in Christ Jesus — go 
then, slothful servant and glorify his justice.' Having 
uttered these words he disappeared, and, at the same 
time, the air gave way under my feet — the abyss began 
to open — dreadful wailings assailed my ears, and a 
whirlwind of smoke surrounded me. The agitation 
of my mind and body awoke me,' the horror of which 
nothing can equal, and the mere recollection of which 
still makes me tremble. how happy I felt on awak* 
ing to find that I was still in the land of mercy, and 
the day of salvation ! my God, I cried, grant that 
this dream may continually influence my sentiments 
and my conduct ! May it prove a powerful stimulus 
to excite me to prepare continually for the coming of 
my great Master !" 

By this dream Mr. Fletcher was convinced that he 
had been indulging vain hopes, and that his mind was 
still unrenewed. His conviction of this truth, how- 
ever, did not rest entirely, nor chiefly on what had 
been told him in his dream, but he now set to wor* 



105 THOUGHT* UN 

in sober earnest to examine his religious principles 
and motives, by the Scriptures ; and the more he ex- 
amined the more fully was he convinced that he was 
yet in an unconverted state. From this time he beL r ;tn 
with all earnestness to seek for justification through 
the blood of Christ ; and never rested until he found 
pence with God by a living faith in the truth and pro- 
mises of God. 

The dream of John Newton, which he had Ion? 
before Ins conversion, when in the harbour of \ "■• 
nice, is probably known to most of our reader* — ik J 
thought," says he, "that it was night, and my watch 
upon the deck — a person came to me and brought 
me a ring, with an express charge to keep it care- 
fully; assuring me that while I preserved that ring, 
I should he happy and successful ; hut if I lost ot 
parted with it, I must expect nothing hut trouble and 
misery. I accepted the present and the terms willingly, 
not in the least doubting my own care to preserve 
it, and highly gratified to have my happiness in my 
own keeping. I was engaged m these thoughts, 
when a second person came to me and observing the 
ring on my finger, he took occasion to ask me --cm.' 
questions concerning it. I readily told him its virtues, 
and his answer expressed a surprise at my weak! 
in expecting such effects from a ring. I think he 
reasoned with me some time on the impossibility 
of the thing; and at length urged me in direct terms 
to throw it away. At first, I was shocked at the 
proposal ; hut his insinuations prevailed. I be^an to 
reason and doubt, and at last plucked it off my fin_ 
and dropped it over the ship's side into the water, 
which it had no sooner touched, than I saw. at the 
same instant, a terrible fire burst out from a range 
of mountains (the Alps) which appeared at some 
distance behind the city of Venice. I saw the hills 
as distinct as if awake, and that they were all in flames. 
I perceived too late my folly; and my tempter, with 
an air of insult, informed me that all the mercy God 
had in reserve for me was comprised in the ring 
which I had wilfully thrown away. I trembled and 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 109 

was in great agony, and stood self-condemned, when 
a third person, or the same who gave me the ring, 
came to me and demanded the cause of my grief. 
He blamed my rashness, and asked me if I thought 
I should be wiser, if I had my ring again. I could 
hardly answer, but thought it gone beyond control. 
He went down under the water, and soon returned, 
bringing the ring with him. The moment he came on 
board, the flames were extinguished. I approached 
to receive the ring, but he refused to restore it, say- 
ing < If you should receive this ring again, you would 
soon bring yourself into the same distress. You are 
not able to keep it; but I will preserve it for you, 
and whenever it is needful will produce it in your 
behalf.' Upon this I awoke in a state of mind not to 
be described. I could hardly eat or sleep or transact 
necessary business for two or three days, but the im- 
pression soon wore off, and in a little time I totally 
forgot it, and I think it hardly occurred to my mind till 
several years afterwards." 

I will conclude this unsubstantial discussion by 
citing the words of that remarkable young sage of 
remote antiquity, Elihu, the reprover of both Job and 
his friend, and the sublime defender of God and his dis- 
pensations. "For God speaketh once, yea twice, yet 
man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the 
night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumber- 
ings upon the bed. Then he openeth the ears of men 
and sealeth their instruction." 

Sometime in the year 1811, as well as he remem- 
bers, the substance of the following narrative was 
put into the hands of the writer, by the Rev. Dr. Wil- 
liam M. Tennent, of Abington, Pennsylvania, when 
this excellent man was on his death-bed, and near 
'his end. It will be seen that it was drawn up with 
a view to publication as soon as the subject of the 
memoir, who was then alive in Dr. Tennent's con- 
gregation, should be called home to his rest. That 
event occurred sometime since ; and in communica- 
ting this memoir to the public, the writer considers 

10 



1 10 THOUGHTS ON 

himself as fulfilling an implied promise, wnen ne ac 
cepted the manuscript. 

Having, however, ascertained that Mrs. Ann Snow- 
den, of Philadelphia, was the lady at whose house this 
gentleman resided, and that she was the person by 
whom the Scriptures were read; and knowing,! 
that she w;is both pious and intelligent, the writer 
quested her to put down on paper an exact account of 
this pleasing and remarkable event; which she did 
with the utmost readiness. From these authentic 
sources, the following narrative is derived; and will 
be given with very slight verbal alterations, in the \ 
words of the respected persons named. 

Dr. Tennent's memoir is prefaced by the follow] 
words : 

"Unfinished memoir of Mr. George Inglis, who has 
been a member of the Presbyterian church in Abing- 
ton from 1790 till the present tune, L810. It is ex- 
pected, that some lit person into whose hand ll 
sketches of his character may fall, will, after his de- 
cease, prepare them for the press; as it is hoped the 
Church of Christ may derive some advantage from 
them." 

The narrative then proceeds as foil •• Mr. 

George [nglis was horn in the city of Philadel- 
phia, of honourable parentage, and received a lib- 
eral education in the university of that city, winch 
was completed between his 16th and 17th year. 
Having served a regular apprenticeship to a mer- 
chant, he entered into the mercantile business, and 
settled in the island of Jamaica, where he continued 
about eleven years. Very early in lite he began to 
drink in iniquity like water, discovered strong pre- 
judices against serious persons and serious thii 
associated with the gay, libertine, and dissipated ;" 
never read the Scriptures except so much of then 
enabled him to construe his Greek lessons, whilst in 
college. His propensities to sinful indulgences in- 
creased with his years, and in the island where he 
resided, temptations being increased, and the means 
of restraint from vicious courses diminished, he be- 



, 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. l v l 

.ame more and more confirmed in the habits of An, 
antil at length he was given up to almost every spe- 
cies of iniquity. Amidst his open and avowed en- 
mity to God and religion, at the close of the afore 
mentioned period, an awful tornado fell upon that part 
of the island where he resided, by which he lost 
the greater part of his property, and was compelled 
to return to the continent. This happened during 
the revolutionary war. All this made no alteration 
in his morals for the better; but the more he was 
corrected, the more hardened he grew ; casting off 
the fear of God, and putting to defiance the scourges 
of Jehovah. Thus he continued, till some years after- 
wards, being in the town of Manchester, Virginia, 
without any natural (known) cause, to produce the 
effect, he was smitten by the immediate hand of God, 
whilst in the possession of good health, with the total 
loss of sight within a few days. In this situation his 
mind was all distraction. His cry was to man only 
for help ; but to God his Maker, who giveth songs in 
the night to the afflicted and oppressed, he had not 
learned to cry. This lesson, however, he was taught 
not long afterwards." 

Thus far the narrative has been given in the words 
of Dr. Tennent; it will now be proper to hear Mrs. 
Snowden's account of the conversion of this man, as 
she was the only human instrument made use of in 
bringing him to the knowledge of the truth It is in 
the form of a letter addressed to the writer. 

" Rev. and Dear Sir — I will now endeavour to fulfil 
the promise made to you some time ago, by giving 
such information as is within my recollection, respect- 
ing the case of Mr. George Inglis. That gentleman, 
a native of Philadelphia, had received a classical 
education, and with it every indulgence which a 
father's partiality could bestow. Brought up in the 
gay world, it is to be feared there was but little atten- 
lion paid to his immortal interests. After spending 
•he time necessary to acquire the knowledge of mer- 
cantile affairs, he left the city for the West Indies, 
where he was, for a whiie, successful in business, 



I 12 THOUGHTS ON 

and found himself in circumstances to visit England ; 
and, while in London, throwing aside every restraint, 
he indulged himself in all the amusements and levi- 
ties of that gay metropolis. Returning to America, 
he engaged in business in the state of Virginia. 
After residing some time there, it pleased the Lord 
to deprive, him of his sight': an affliction at that tune 
looked upon by him as insupportable, for he saw not 
the hand from whence it came; but after he was made 
sensible, th;it he was a brand snatched from the burn- 
ing, often have I heard him bless the chastisement as 
that of a tender Father. 

" Mr. Inglis had weak eyes from an early age, but 
his blindness came on him suddenly. Finding no 
lief from the physicians where he resided, lie left 
Virginia for Philadelphia; and upon the application 
of his friends, was received, with his servant, into my 
house, as a boarder. I found linn a man of str 
passions, impatient under sufferings, and not \vi, 
to submit to restraints of any kind. When the phy- 
sicians of the city were consulted, they gave his 
friends no hope of the recovery of his eyesight; him 
they soothed with the promise of a further considera- 
tion of his case. A few weeks after he came to my 
house, a gentleman, very much celebrated as an 
oculist, came to the city. Mr. Inglis applied to him 
for advice. He did not tell him that his was an incura- 
ble case, but said that he would see him again. lie 
bore this very impatiently, observing to me that life 
was now becoming an intolerable burden ; but that he 
had this consolation, that he had it in his power at 
any time to lay it down. It w r as but to increase the 
quantity of opium (he was in the habit of taking 
opium) and all his sufferings would be at an end ; 
and that, after another visit from the doctor, if he 
found there was no hope of his recovering his sight, 
he would certainly take that method of putting an 
end to his existence. I remonstrated with him on the 
impropriety of his behaviour; alleging, that he had 
no more right to take .away his own life, than he had 
o take away the life of his neighbour ; asking him if 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 113 

he had considered the consequences of rushing un 
called into the presence of his Maker. His answei 
was, that he had considered it well ; and he advocated 
nis opinion on this principle, that he was by a mer 
ciful Creator placed on this earth to enjoy the gooc 
things of this life as far as it was in his power hon 
^stly to obtain them — that the duties required of hin: 
#ere, to be as useful to his friends in particular, ana 
society at large, as his circumstances would admit of— 
that having lost his sight, he should no longer enjoy 
any happiness here, would become a burden to his 
friends, and could be of no use in the world. He 
alleged, that the purposes for which life was given to 
him were now defeated ; of course there would be no 
impropriety in laying it down. I made some remarks 
on what he had advanced as his sentiments, and to 
strengthen what I said, quoted some passages of Scrip- 
ture. These he treated in a very light manner — spoke 
of the Bible as the work of men, contrived to keep 
the vulgar in awe — with many other observations too 
common with men of deistical principles. I then in- 
quired if he had ever read the Bible; he frankly 
acknowledged that he had not since he left school. 
Upon asking him if he had not read the works of those 
that were opposed to the Scriptures, he admitted that 
he had. If so, I observed, he must have formed his 
opinions from the avowed enemies of that sacred book. 
Was this a fair method of proceeding ? Was it just ? 
That I thought he would not act thus, on any other 
occasion. This book you acknowledge you have not 
read since you were a boy. All that you know about 
it, you have from the enemies of the Christian religion. 
Taking these things into consideration, I hope you will 
no more speak against the Bible, as it is a book that 
you have never read since you were capable of form- 
ing a judgment of its contents. He apologized for 
what he had said, in a handsome manner, acknow- 
ledged that he was wrong in speaking as he had done, 
and expressed a wish to have it read to him. This I 
declined, and gave my reasons for so doing, which 
were, that a man so prejudiced, as he appeared to be 

10* 



114 THOUGHTS ON 

was not likely to profit by the reading of the Bible 
that he would most probably cavil at, and perhaps 
ridicule it ; in so doing, he would wound my feelings 
without benefitting himself; for I considered it as the 
word of God, and my hopes of eternal salvation rest- 
ed on the truths contained in it. He then assured me 
on the word of a gentleman, that if I would read to 
him, whatever his opinions might be, he would care- 
fully avoid saying any thing that might have a ten- 
dency to wound my feelings, or give offence, in the 
smallest degree. There was an earnestness in his man- 
ner of addressing me which satisfied my mind, that he 
was sincerely desirous to have the Scriptures read to 
him; and the next day was fixed upon for that pur- 
pose, it appeared to me that he waited impatiently 
for the arrival of the appointed hour, for, no sooner 
did the time come, than he sent tor me. Before we 
began, 1 observed to him, that as in the New Testament 
he would find the fulfilment of the promises o[ the 
Saviour, I would point out those promises as they 
should occur in reading the Old Testament; which 
it would l)e necessary lor him to take notice of as we 
proceeded. Beginning then with the first chapter of 
Genesis, before we had gone through the chapter, he 
stopped me to express his admiration of the langU 
' It was sublime beyond any tiling lie had ever read.' 
While I was reading, he was all attention; and when 
the time arrived when I was under the necessity of 
leaving off, it was with regret that he observed that I 
had finished; putting me in mind, at the same time, 
of my promise to attend to him, on the next day. I 
think it was on the second day of my reading to him, 
that he cried out, 'What a wretch am I to have 
spoken against such a book ! a book that I knew no- 
thing of, having never given it an attentive perusal/ 
I went on for a few days, reading to him according 
to the plan laid down, which was one hour every 
day ; when the distress of his mind greatly increased. 
There was now no more said about a second visit to 
the doctor — no complaints — no murmurings, on ac- 
count of the loss of sight. He now saw the hand of 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 115 

God in the dispensation of his providence, and would 
acknowledge that it was less, far less, than he de- 
served. My family duties preventing me from being 
with him as much as I wished, I now called in the 
aid of some of my religious friends, among whom 
was Mr. Joseph Eastburn, to converse with him and 
to assist ill reading to him. Several religious books 
were now occasionally read to him, among which 
were Boston's Fourfold State, Newton's Works, Her- 
vey's Dialogues, &c. The descriptive parts of the last 
mentioned author, were at his request passed over, 
except where it more fully served to explain the doc- 
trines of free grace — a subject to him of the deepest 
interest. Though totally deprived of sight, and unac- 
customed to go out, he now neglected no opportunity 
of hearing the word of God ; attending sermons on 
Sabbaths, and weekly societies as often as was in his 
power. As might be expected, his natural disposition, 
sometimes getting the better of the good resolutions 
he had formed, would betray him into a fretfulness 
that was troublesome to his friends, and occasioned 
much uneasiness to himself. On such occasions I 
have heard him lament deeply over his sinful nature, 
accusing himself of ingratitude to that God who had 
mercifully stopped him in his career of vice, by depriv- 
ing him of the light of day, and enlightening his dark- 
ened mind, and had enabled him to understand the 
truths contained in his blessed word. I do not recol- 
lect how long he staid with me, but it was something 
less than a year, when his friends thought it would be 
best to remove him to the country ; and boarding was 
obtained for him in the neighbourhood of the Rev. Dr. 
Tennent, of Abington." 

Dr. Tennent, in the memoir already quoted, after 
mentioning some circumstances which have been 
given in detail in a former page, goes on to say, "It 
pleased God, by these means to bring him to very 
serious and deep impressions of his moral character, 
and to constrain him, after some time, to attempt to 
pray. This [change] was effected in the gentleness, 
kindness, and tenderness of infinite mercy, and with 



116 THOUGHTS ON 

out those horrors which often precede the conversion 
of high-handed and daring sinners. In his case, all 
was mercy, without extraordinary terror. He was 
embraced in the arms of redeeming love, and deli- 
vered from the fiery pit without beholding its awful 
flames. In his first attempt to supplicate the I) 
he was principally affected with a sense of the tafteo 
of his conduct, and vile ingratitude for the mercies be- 
stowed, and this exercise was accompanied with an 
involuntary flow of tears, and a desire to call God his 
Father, and afterwards to mention the blessed name of 
Jesus, the Saviour. Probably, this was the beginning of 
his new birth, and the hour of his conversion; which 
not long afterwards confirmed by a remarkable vision 
of two hooks, with a glorious light shining in tin 1 midst 
of them, as be was lying In bis bed; winch he appre- 
hended to he the Old and New Testaments of the 
living God, presenting to, and impressing on bis mind 
tins sacred declaration, bill without a voice, -Tnr> is 
Tin: way/' and filling Ins soul at the same time, with 
inexpressible joy." 

What is here related, is no doubt strictly true, hut 
there is no propriety in calling it " a vision," since it 
can easily be accounted for by a vivid impression on 
the imagination. A vision is something supernatural 
seen with the bodily eyes; but this man wfas totally 
blind; the objects so clearly discerned must then h 
been from impressions on the imagination. Hut in e 
ing this, it is not intended to deny that the cause was 
die Spirit of God. This divine Agent can, and (\ni>* 
produce vivid impressions on the imagination, which 
have so much the appearance of external realities, that 
many are persuaded that they do see and hear what 
takes place only in their own minds. 

" In the year 1790, Mr. Inglis was removed to 
Abington, and became a boarder in the house of the 
Rev. William M. Tennent, and soon afterwards v 
admitted to the communion of the church, in that 
place, with which he hath walked steadfastly in the 
faith ever since; exemplifying in a striking and high 
degree the power of God's grace in the 'new .reation.' 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 117 

From the beginning of his turn to God, there was 
abundant proof that * old things had passed away, and 
that all things had become new.' Before, a blas- 
phemer, but now a worshipper of the true God. 
Before, a drunkard, and a Sabbath-breaker, unclean, 
a ridiculer of holy things, and indulging habitually in 
all ungodliness and wickedness — led captive by the 
prince of the power of the air, who ruleth in the 
children of disobedience, but now, freed from his 
bonds and made by sovereign grace to rejoice in the 
liberty of the gospel. Before, a hater of good men 
and good things, but now a lover of both. He was 
made to hunger and thirst after righteousness — after 
the bread of life — after the knowledge of His will; and 
seemed only to be happy when he had a glimpse of 
his glory. For more than a year after his conversion, 
he could not bear to hear any other book read to 
him than the Holy Scriptures; and the most practical 
authors on religion. He shunned all political conver- 
sation, the reading of newspapers, and whatever might 
divert his thoughts from holy meditations and a further 
knowledge of his Redeemer. 

"Whilst residing in his first permanent lodgings 
in the country, it may not be improper to mention a 
second remarkable vision which he had. Walking in 
the garden one day, as he usually did for sacred me- 
ditation, he was suddenly arrested and overcome with 
a most affecting view of his Saviour, as suspended 
on the cross, and bearing his very sins. In this 
vision of redeeming love he was so lost that he knew 
not where he was — overwhelmed with unutterable 
joy, and the most affecting gratitude for the discharge 
of the immense debt which he owed to the justice of 
a holy God. The impressions then made are still kept 
in strong remembrance. How long he was in this 
state he knew not, but was finally conducted to the 
house, after having called for a guide — full of joy and 
gladness : a second remarkable proof of his interest, in 
gospel redemption/' 

We will simply repeat our objection to the use of 
the word "vision" to represent what was nothing 



118 THOUGHTS ON 

more than a strong, believing view of the scene of the 
crucifixion, accompanied, no doubt, with a vivid ima- 
gination of the bleeding, dyimz Saviour, suffering for his 
sins. 

"The writer will only add, that he has frequently, 
within the term of twenty years, heard Mr. Inglis 
say, he would not, if it had been within the power of 
a wish, have had his natural sight restored, having 
found his eyes such an avenue to sin. His whole 
conduct since his conversion has corresponded with 
his profession as a Christian disciple. He has, in the 
view of his brethren where he resides, made a visible 
growth in grace, even in the knowledge of our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ. He has, with others 
travelling to the same blessed country, been on the 
mount and in the valley — an humble, meek, patient, 
self-denying Christian, rejoicing in the hopes of a 
better country — weeping on account of Ins own un- 
fruitfulness — looking lor strength to vanquish his 
enemies, and hoping lor victory by the merits of the 
great Redeemer. Hitherto Steadfast, may he hold 
last unto the end ! and may many such he added unto 
the Lord! Blessed be God for the gift of his Sou, 
for the revelation of his incomprehensible love and 
grace, and for the crown of glory which is laid up for 
all who are looking and longing for his second ap- 
pearance !" 

The foregoing account was written about thirty 
years ngo, and Mr. Inglis, who was then in years, did 
not depart this life until two or three years since. 
As the Rev. Robert Steel succeeded Dr. Tennent, as 
pastor of the Presbyterian church at Abington, I re- 
quested him to give me notice of the old gentleman's 
death, with an account of his state of mind in his latter 
days. This he did, and I regret that I have mislaid 
his letter, so that I cannot at present put my hands on 
it. But I confess that I was much disappointed in 
not finding something more memorable in the closing 
scene of one who had been so manifestly snatched 
"as a brand from the burning. ,, As well as I recol- 
ect, Mr. Steel represents that the spirituality and ar- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 119 

dour of Mr. Inglis's religion considerably declined in 
his later years; that he became somewhat worldly 
minded, and appeared to be too much concerned about 
his little property ; and that he had nothing remarkable 
in the exercises of his mind, while on his death-bed : 
but no one, I believe, ever doubted the reality of the 
change which he had experienced; neither was he 
ever left to do any thing to bring discredit on the pro- 
fession which he had made, [See p. 12.] 

One reflection which occurred to me on reading Mr. 
Steel's letter was, that it is not desirable for a Christian 
to live to be very old ; especially when all active ser- 
vice in the cause of Christ is precluded. Old age is a 
peculiarly unfavourable season for growth in grace. 
Many of the natural auxiliaries to piety are then re- 
moved ; and at the same time, many infirmities cluster 
around us; so that a declension in religion is not un- 
common in the protracted years of the aged. 

Another solemn reflection was, that a man is never 
too old nor too decrepit to be covetous. Covetousness 
is peculiarly the vice of the aged, and when indulged, 
strikes its roots deeper, the older we grow. What 
Christ says to all, may with emphasis be addressed to 
the aged, " Take heed, and beware of covetousness." 
The writer remembers to have seen and conversed with 
the old gentleman in the church at Abington, soon 
after Dr. Tennent's death. At that time he was always 
in his place in the house of God, and attracted atten- 
tion by his venerable and solemn appearance. It was 
agreed that his taste and judgment in regard to preach- 
ing were uncommonly sound and good; but nothing 
would pass with him in which Christ was not made 
conspicuous. Purely evangelical preaching was that 
in which he delighted ; and at that period, his conver- 
sation was in a strain of warm and pious feeling. 

My closing remark is, that we should despair of the 
conversion of no one ; and we should use all our 
efforts to prevail on skeptical men to read the Bible. 
The Bible has converted more infidels than all the 
books of "evidences" which exist. 



120 THOUGHTS ON 



CHAPTER VIII. 

ftuligious Conversation. — Stress laid by some on the knowledge of the time 
and place of Conversion. — Religious experience of Halyburton. 

It is often a question among serious people, whethei 
every person, who is a real Christian, knows not only 
that he is such, hut the Unit 1 and place of his conver- 
sion. This subject has already been partially diseu 
in these essays, hut demands a more particular anc 
extended consideration. 

It is well known to all, that the Christian denomina- 
tions, which exist in this country, differ from mi 
another in their views of various doctrines and rites 
of religion; hut the fact is not so well known, that 
the religious experience of the individuals of the seve 
ral denominations is as various as their doctrines an< 
external forms of worship. To those who view tl 
things at a distance, and superficially, all religious 
people appear alike; and many, when they hear of a 
number converted, take it for granted that they have 
ail passed through the same train of exercises, to 
whatever sect they belong. There are some serious 
people, well indoctrinated in the Scriptures, who, 
while they hold a sound theory respecting the natur 
of regeneration, never speak of their own religion 
exercises; believing that such exposures are not for 
edification, as they tend to foster spiritual pride and 
vain glory, and afford a temptation to hypocrisy, 
which is commonly too strong for the deceitful heart. 
Among such professors, you hear nothing of convic- 
tion and conversion ; and when any of this class fall 
into a distressing case of conscience which urges them 
to seek spiritual counsel, they always propose the 
case in the third person. They will talk to you by 
the hour and the day, about the doctrines of religion, 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 121 

and show that they are more conversant with their 
Bibles, than many who talk much of their religious 
feelings. There are two objections to this practice. 
The first is, that it has the effect of keeping out of 
view the necessity of a change of heart. The second 
is, that it is a neglect of one effectual means of grace. 
Religious conversation, in which Christians freely tell 
of the dealings of God with their own souls, has been 
often a powerful means of quickening the sluggish 
soul, and communicating comfort. It is in many 
cases, a great consolation to the desponding believer, 
to know that his case is not entirely singular; and if 
a traveller can meet with one who has been over the 
difficult parts of the road before him, he may surely 
derive from his experience some salutary counsel and 
warning. The Scriptures are favourable to such 
communications. u Come and hear," says David, "all 
ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath 
done for my soul." "Then they that feared the Lord 
spake often one to another, and the Lord hearkened 
and heard it, and a book of remembrance was writ- 
ten before him for them that feared the Lord, and 
that thought upon his name." Paul seldom makes a 
speech or writes a letter, in which he does not freely 
speak of his own religious joys and sorrows, hopes 
and fears. There is, no doubt, an abuse of this means 
of grace, as of others ; but this is no argument against 
its legitimate use, but only teaches that prudence 
should govern such religious intercourse. The oppo- 
site extreme is not uncommon in some denominations ; 
as where professors are publicly called upon, and 
that periodically, for their experience; or where, 
when professors are met, it is agreed that every one, 
in turn, shall give a narrative of his or her experience, 
in religion. Such practices are not for edification. 
There are, however, cases in which it may be expe- 
dient — it may be delightful — for a few select friends 
to enter into a full detail of the dealings of God with 
their souls, respectively. The writer, in another 
place, published an account of such a conference in 
Holland, which he received from the late Rev. Dr 

li 



122 THOrGHTS ON 

Livingston, of New Brunswick. A company ofpioui 
friends having met for religious conversation the sub 
ject which came up was the striking similarity of the 
experience of God's people in all ages, and in all 
countries; when some one observed, that there v. 
present, four persons from the four quarters of the 
world, respectively, and who had embraced reli§ 
in their native country. One was from the Dutch 
tlements in the East Indies, a second from the ( 
of Good Hope, ihe third a young nobleman of Hol- 
land, and die fourth I)r Livingston himself, from the 
lulled States of America. It was then prop 
an illustration of the subject of conversation, that « 
should give a narrative of his Christian experienca 
The company in attendance expressed the highest 
tification, and were no doubt greatly edified. It 
is much to be lamented, that many persons who 
fond o\' religious conversation, deal so much in cant 
phrases, and assume an air so affected and sanctimo- 
nious. This is die thing which disgusts grave 
intelligent Christians ; and often occasions the wic 
to ridicule or blaspheme, "Let not your good be 
evil spoken of." He not public nor indiscriminate in 
your communications of this kind. "Take heed that 
you cast not your pearls before swine, lest they tram- 
ple them under their feet, and then turn again and 
rend you." 

It is a fact, that what passes lor conversion in one 
sect, will be condemned as altogether insufficient in 
another. A few years since there was, what v 
called a great revival, in a Presbyterian congregation, 
m New Jersey. The Presiding Elder of the Metho- 
dist Society, for that district, having classes of Ins 
church mingled with the people of that congregation, 
so that he had the opportunity of conversing with a 
number of the subjects of this work, gave it as his 
opinion, to a person who communicated the fact to 
me, that none with whom he spoke, were converted, 
for he did not meet with one who would say, that he 
kneiv his sins were pardoned. On the other hand, 
many of the conversions which take place at camp 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 123 

meetings, and other meetings, where there is much 
excitement, though the subjects do profess to know- 
that their sins are pardoned, are not believed to be 
cases of sound conversion by Presbyterians ; and 
they are confirmed in this opinion, often, by the 
transitory nature of the reformation produced. We 
have known instances of persons professing conver- 
sion at a camp-meeting, and filling the camp with 
their rejoicing, who relapsed into their old habits of 
sin, before reaching their own dwellings. In these 
strong excitements of the animal sensibilities, there is 
great danger of deception. When feelings of distress 
are wound up to a very high pitch, there often occurs 
a natural re-action in the nervous system, by which 
the bodily sensations are suddenly changed, and this, 
attended with some text of Scripture impressed on the 
mind, leads the person to believe, that he was in that 
moment converted, when in reality no permanent 
change has been effected. It is one thing to be per- 
suaded of the truth of the gospel, and quite another 
to be certain that I have believed, and that my sins 
are pardoned. Mr Wesley was for several years in 
the ministry, and a missionary to America before he 
had this joyful sense of the forgiveness of sins, and he 
seems to intimate, that until this time he was cm un- 
converted man; and most of his followers make this 
joyful sense of pardoned sin, the principal evidence 
of conversion, and one which all must experience. 
Most serious, intelligent readers, however, will be of 
opinion, that Mr. Wesley was as humble and sincere 
a penitent, before this joyful experience, as after- 
wards ; and that it is a dangerous principle to make a 
man's opinion of his own state, the criterion by which 
to judge of its safety. Certainly, we should greatly 
prefer to stand in the place of some broken-hearted, 
contrite ones, who can scarcely be induced to enter- 
tain a hope respecting their acceptance, to that of 
many who boast that they never feel a doubt of their 
own safety. Men will not be judged in the last day 
by the opinion which they had of themselves. For 
this confidence, it would seem, never forsakes some 



124 THOUGHTS ON 

to the last, who nevertheless will be cast into outer 
darkness. " Not every one that saith unto me L< 
Lord, shall cuter into the kingdom of heaven, but he 
that doeth the will of my Father which is in hea^ 
Many will say unto me in that day. Lord. Lord. j. 
we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name have 
cast out devils, and in thy name done many wonder- 
ful works ? And then will 1 profess unto them, I 
never knew you. depart from me ye workers of ini- 
quity." I:i early life, the writer knew some I 
professors of Ins own denomination, who could tell 
the day and hour when God had mercy on them. 
One of these, a fair spoken, plausible man, who had 
spent the former part of his life in pleasure and dissipa- 
tion, gave such an account of his conversion 
adapted to produce envy and discouragement in pro- 
fessors who had been less favoured; and not only 
could designate the month and day of the month, but 
the hour of the day, when be obtained reconciliation 
with Sod. No one doubted of his piety — but mark 
the event. This high professor, a few years after- 
wards, was excommunicated from the church, foi 
manifest perjury! Another, whose experience was 
remarkable and his conversion sudden, became a 
preacher, then a fanatic — and finally an infidel. This 
man told me, that though often in great spiritual dis- 
tress, he never doubted of the goodness of his state. 
They who believe that a man may be a saint to-day 
and a devil to-morrow, not in appearance only, but 
in reality, easily account for these apostasies, but we 
are inclined to hold fast by what the beloved disciple 
says about such, in his time. "They went out from 
us, but they were not of us, for if they had been u{ 
us they would no doubt have continued with us; but 
they went out, that they might be made manifest that 
they were not all of us." 

Few men in later times appear to have arisen to 
greater eminence in piety than Henry Marty n, the 
missionary. The strength of the principle of holi- 
ness, in his case, was manifested in his habitual spiri- 
tuality of mind, and constant exercise of self-da 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 125 

nial ; yet, as far as is related, his incipient exercises 
of religion were by no meansstrongly marked,but seem 
to have been rather obscure and feeble. The same 
is the fact respecting those two distinguished men of 
God, Philip and Matthew Henry, the father and the 
son. The early exercises of these men were not in 
any respect remarkable. Indeed, they both became 
pious when very young; and we rarely get a very 
distinct and accurate account of the commencement 
of piety in early life. But no one, who is acquainted 
with the lives of these eminent ministers, will deny 
that they grew up to an uncommon degree of piety, 
which in the experience of both, though characterized 
by genuine humility, was free from any mixture of 
gloom or austerity. True religion can rarely be found 
exhibiting so cheerful a mien and so amiable an as- 
pect, and yet, with these men every thing became a 
part of their religion ; to this one object their whole 
lives were devoted. I have derived much satisfaction, 
and I hope, profit, from the account which Halyburton 
gives of his religious experience ; especially, because 
the account was given when the writer was advanced 
m years, and when his judgment was fully matured. 
Many youthful narratives of pious exercises are very 
fervent, but they are frothy, and marked with that 
kind of ignorance and self-confidence which arise from 
inexperience. Halyburton is an example of a person 
brought up under religious discipline and instruction, 
and under constant restraint, whose convictions of sin 
were nevertheless exceedingly pungent and awful. 
His conversion too was sudden, and his first exercises 
of faith clear and strong. " I cannot," says he, M be 
very positive about the day or the hour of this delive- 
rance ; nor can I satisfy many other questions about 
the way and manner of it. As to these things I may 
say with the blind man, ' One thing I know, that 
whereas I was blind, now I see/ It was towards the 
close of January, or the beginning of February, 1698, 
that this seasonable relief came ; and, so far as I can 
remember, I was at secret prayer, in very great extre- 
mity, not far from despair, when the Lord seasonably 

11* 



126 THOUGHTS ON 

stepped in and gave this merciful turn to affairs 
When I said there was none to save, then * his arm 
brought salvation.' God, who commanded the I 
to shine out of darkness, 'shined into my mind, 3 
give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in 
the face of Jesus Christ. That which afforded mt 
lief was a discovery of the Lord, as manifested m Ins 
word. He said to me, ; thou hast d . bill 

in me is thy help.' He lei me see that there are for- 
givenesses with him, that with him is mercy and plen- 
teous redemption. He made all his goodne 
before me, and proclaimed his name, 'The Lord, the 
Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and 
abundant in goodness and truth, keeping m< rcy foi 
thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and 
sin;' who will he gracious to whom he will he . 
cious, and will show mercy to whom he will show 
"mercy. This was a strange sight to ^\)r who before 
(poked on God as a 'consuming fire* which I could not 
see and live. He brought me from Sitiai and its thuu- 
denngs, to Mount Zion, and to the Mediator of the 
new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling that 
cleanseth from all sin, and Bpeaketh better ihiugs than 
tlie blood of Abel. He revealed Christ in his glory. 
I now with wonder beheld his glory, the glory as 
the only begotten of the Father, full of and 

truth. And I was made, by this sight, to say, 'Thou 

art fairer than the sons of men.' \ml I 

hereby further satisfied, that not only was there for- 
giveness of sins and justification by free grace, thro 
the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God 
hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his 
blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission oi 
sins that are past, through the forbearance of God — 
but I saw moreover, with wonder and delight, how 
God by this means might be just even in justifying the 
ungodly, who believe in Jesus. How was 1 ravished 
with delight when made to see that the God in whom 
a little before I thought there was no help for me, or 
any sinner in my case — if indeed there were any such — 
notwithstanding his spotless purity, his deep hatred of 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 127 

sin, his inflexible justice and righteousness, and his im 
impeachable faithfulness pledged in the threatenings 
of the law, might not only pardon, but without preju- 
dice to his justice or his other attributes, might be just 

even in justifying the ungodly And the Lord 

further opened the gospel-call to me, and let me set? 
that even to me, was 'the word of this salvation sent. 
All this was offered unto me, and I was invited to 
come and freely take of the waters of life, and to come 

in my distress unto the blessed rest He, to my 

great satisfaction, gave me a pleasing discovery of his 
design in the whole, that it was, 'that no flesh might 
glory in his sight/ but that he who glories, should 
glory only in the Lord; and that he might manifest 
the riches of his grace, and be exalted in showing 
mercy, and that we in the end might be saved. The 
Lord revealed to my soul the full and suitable provi- 
sion, made in this way against the power of sin — that 
as there is righteousness in him, so there is strength, 
even ' everlasting strength' in the Lord Jehovah, to 

secure us against all enemies When this strange 

discovery was made of a relief, wherein full provisions 
were made for all the concerns of God's glory, and my 
salvation in subordination thereto, my soul was, by a 
sweet and glorious power, carried out to rest in it, as 
worthy of God, and every way suitable and satisfying 
in my case. fc They that know thy name will put their 
trust in thee.' All these discoveries were conveyed to 
me by the Scriptures only. It was not indeed by one 
particular promise or testimony of Scripture, but by 
the concurring light of a great many, seasonably set 
home, and most plainly expressing the truths above 
mentioned. The promises and truths of the Bible, in 
great abundance and variety, were brought to remem- 
brance, and the wonders contained in them, were set 
before my eyes in the light of the word. 6 He sent 

his word and healed me.' But it was not the 

Bible alone that conveyed the discovery ; for most of 
these passages whereby I was relieved, I had formerly 
in my distress, read and thought upon, without find- 
ing any relief in them. But now the Lord shined 



128 THOUGHTS 

into my mind by them Formerly, I was acquainted 
only with the letter, which profits not, but now the 
Lord's words were spirit and life, and in his light I 
light. God opened my < see wonders out 

of his law. T!i. re was light in his words; a burning 
light by them Bhone into my mind, not men 
doctrinal km i, but l the light of the know]* 
of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. ' The 
light, that I now had, shone fr<>m heaven; it was not 
;i spark kindled by my own endeavours, but i( shone 
suddenly about me; it came by the word of God, ;i 
heavenly means. It opened heaven and discovered 
heavenly things, even the glory of God; and it led 
me up as it wi ire to heaven. Its whole tendency was 
heavenward. It was a true light, giving manife 
tions of God, even the one true God, and the on.' \i 
ator between God and man: and giving a true view 
of my state with respecl to God It was a plea- 
sant and a sweet light : it had a h don 
in God attending it. It led to a pleasure in the foun- 
tain whence it came. It was a distinct and dear light, 
not only representing spiritual things, but manifesting 
them in their glory. It put all things in their proper 
place, in due subordination to God, and gave distinct 
views of their genuine tendency. It was a satisfying 
light. The soul rested in the discoveries that it made 
and was satisfied; it could not doubt of what it saw. 
and that things were as they were represented. It 
was a quickening, refreshing and healing light; when 
4 the Snn of Righteousness 5 arose, there w.is 'healing 
under his wings. 5 It was a great light : it made dis- 
coveries which were easily distinguished from any 
former discoveries it had over made. And it wa 
powerful light; it dissipated that thick darkness which 
had overspread my mind, and made all those frightful 
temptations, which had formerly disturbed me, fly 
before it. It was composing: not like a sudden flash 
of lightning, which fills the soul with fear and am; 
rnent, but it composed and quieted my soul and 
put all my faculties, as it were, in their due | 
ture, and gave me the exercise oi them. It destroyed 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 129 

not, but improved my former knowledge. But, as 
the true idea of light is not conveyed by the ear ; so 
no words can convey the idea of light to the blind 
And he who has eyes, will need no words to describe 
it. It is like the new name that none knows, save he 
that has it. 

"The first discernible effect of this light was, an 
approbation of God's way of saving sinners by Jesus 
Christ, to the glory of his grace. And this I take to 
be the true Scriptural notion of justifying faith ; for it 
not only answers the Scripture descriptions of it. by 
receiving, coming, looking, trusting, believing, &c, 
but it really gives God that glory which he designed 
by ail this contrivance — the glory of his wisdom, 
grace, mercy, and truth. Now this discovery of the 
Lord's name brought me to trust in him, and glory 
only in the Lord. I found my soul fully satisfied in 
these discoveries, as pointing out a way of relief, 
altogether and in all respects suitable to the need of a 
poor, guilty, self-condemned, self-destroyed sinner, 
driven from all other reliefs. In this I rested, as in a 
way of full peace, comfort, security, and satisfaction, 
as providing abundantly for all those ends I desired to 
have secured. And this approbation was not merely 
for a time ; but ever after in all temptations it discover- 
ed itself, by keeping in me a fixed assent and adherence 
of mind to this truth, and full persuasion of it, that 
God hath granted unto us eternal life, and this life is 
in his Son. 

" The next remarkable effect of this discovery was, 
that it set me right as to my chief end, and made me 
look to the glory of God, for which formerly I had no 
real concern. Now mine eye was made, in some 
measure, single in eyeing the Lord's honour. It mani- 
fested itself in frequent desires, that the Lord might 
be honoured and glorified, in my life, or by my 
death. It kept my soul fixed in the persuasion that it 
was every way meet that I should take shame and con- 
fusion to myself as what only belonged to me ; and 
that the glory of my salvation was only and entirely 
the Lord's due. 



1 30 THOUGHTS 

"A third discernible effect was, thai I 1 to 

look upon his yoke to be i 1 Ins burden lie 

and to count that his command m ere not e 

but 'right concerning all things.' — Thi 
trary to my former temper. I now came to a I 
uasion that the law was not only just, such 
could make no reasonal ption against, bui I 

and such as became God ; and good, such as w 
way suited to my true interest and peace, and a<l 
tage — which I could never think before. The di 
to winch my heart was most averse had n 
agreeable and refreshing. 

"A fourth remarkable effect of this discovery v. 
the exercise of i vangelical repentance, which 
very different, in man; cts, from that 

with winch I was before acquainted. It differed in 
its rise. Sorrow before flowed from the discover 
sin as it brings on wrath : now it flowed fr 

containing wretched unkindnes -\ b, 

who was himself astonishingly kind to an unworthy 
wretch. I looked on him whom I had pierced, and 
did mourn. Sorrow formerly wrought death, alien- 
ated my heart from God, and thus dispirited me for 
duty, and mad-' me fear hurt from him; but this 
row filled my heart with kindness to God and to his 
ways, sweetened my s<»ul, and endeared God to it. 
It flowed iVom a sense of Ins favour to an unworthy 
wretch that deserved none, and was thus a godly sor- 
row leading to kindness to God, and a drawing i 
hirn, but with much humble sense of my own uuwor- 
thiness, like the returning prodigal, due more (rod 
manifested of his kindness, the more still did this feel- 
ing increase : when he was pacified, then was I 
ashamed and confounded. The sorrow I had before I 
looked on as a burden: it was nothing but selfish con- 
cern for my own safety, and a fear of the righteous 
resentment of God. But this sorrow was sweet and 
pleasant, as being the exercise of filial gratitude: and 
I took pleasure in the surprising manifestations o\ 
God's favour to one so unworthy, and in ackn< 
ledging my own unworthiness. This sorrow was n 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 131 

spring of activity, and i was glad to be employed in 
the meanest errand that might give opportunity to 
evidence how deeply I was grieved for my former 
disobedience. It resulted in a return to the way of 
life, and to such a course, as upon a review, I did not 
repent of, but delighted in, and in which I desired 
continually to advance. It wrought carefulness to 
avoid sin, anxiety to please God, indignation against 
sin, fear of offending God again, vehement desire of 
having sin removed, the Lord glorified, and obedience 
promoted. 

"A fifth discernible effect was, an humble, but 
sweet and comfortable hope, and persuasion of my 
own salvation, answerable to the clearness of the dis- 
covery. When the Lord gave me this view of the 
way of salvation, he satisfied me, that it was a way 
full of peace and security, the only way which I might 
safely venture. Hereby I was freed from the dis- 
quieting fear that the ground of my trust would fail. 
I was satisfied I could not fail, otherwise than by mis- 
sing the way. While I held fast and reposed with 
satisfaction on what I was convinced was safe, I 
could not but be quiet and composed about the result. 
This shows how nearly allied faith and assurance are , 
though they are not the same, no wonder the one 
should be taken for the other. This discovery, mani- 
fested that salvation was in the way of self-denial, 
and trust in the Lord alone ; for nothing so soon mar- 
red this hope, as the least appearance of self, and 
stirring of pride. Whenever the glory of the Lord 
appeared and he spake peace, I was filled with 
shame, and the deeper this humiliation was, the more 
the humble confidence of my safety increased. 

" A sixth discernible difference was, with respect 
to the ordinances of the Lord's appointment. I was 
drawn to follow them as the Lord's institutions, and 
his appointed means of our obtaining discoveries of his 
beauty. I desired < to behold the beauty of the Lord, 
and to inquire in his temple.' I was brought to exer- 
cise more liveliness when the Lord discovered him- 
self; ' my soul then followed hard after him.' When 



132 THOUGHT^ UN 

ihe [x>rd enlarged me and caused me to approach tc 
liim and see his glory, he still humbled me, discov< 
self, and put me in opposition to it. I was now 
quainted, in some measure, with thai boldness and 
freedom of ; with humble confidence, to G 

on a throne of grace, manifesting himself in CI 
In a word, I was in some measure, sensible of the 
Lord's hiding or manifesting him 
performed my duty, and of the ta 
cise of grace, particularly faith, in all approach 
God." 

Although in th<; preceding authentic narrative 
religious experience, we have entered more into detail 
than usual, yet we are persuaded, thai tin* serious 
reader will not think the account too long or too par- 
ticular. I have not met with (count of CI 
tian experience which is so full and satisfactory 
tins; and when it is known to have been written by 
a 111,111 of sound understanding, and most exem] 
piety, at a late period of life, when his judgmeul 
matured by much experience, it cannot but furnish a 
decisive proof of the reality of experimental reh_ 
which cannot he L r ains;ud. In th' se exercises there 
is not a tincture of enthusiasm. Indeed, hoi] 
tions thus produced by the contemplation of truth 
the very opposite of enthusiasm; which always sub- 
stitutes human fancies or impulses tor the truths of 
God, which it uniformly undervalues. In tl 
we see also, how high the exercises of Scriptural piety 
may rise, without degenerating into any extrava- 
gauce. Many Christians seem not to know or believe 
that such spiritual discoveries oi the beauty ot holi- 
ness and the glory of the Lord, are now attainal 
hut still there are some, and often those of tin 1 hum- 
bler class of society, who are privileged with ti. 
spiritual discoveries, and prize them above all pri 
The language of such is, "One day in thy courts is 
better than a thousand. I would rather be a door- 
keeper m the house of God, than dwell in the tents 
of sin." "Return unto thy rest, my soul, for the 
Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee." It is delight- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 133 

fill to trace the effects of God's truth in producing 
every holy affection, when it is discerned by the lieht 
of the Holy Spirit, Faith is almost identified with 
this view; love flows out sweetly and spontaneously; 
evangelical repentance is enkindled ; the soul is clothed 
with humility; zeal for God's glory is predominant: 
his ordinances are sought with desire, and found to 
be channels which freely communicate with the rich 
fountain of grace beneath the throne of God. So far 
are right views of free grace from leading those who 
entertain them to indulge in indolence, or be careless 
about holy living, that they impart the only true cause 
of activity and diligence in the work of the Lord. In 
the foregoing account, the reader may learn the nature 
of true religion more clearly than from many sermons 
and long treatises ; but the humble, doubting Christian 
must not make the measure of grace which this favour- 
ed saint enjoyed, the standard by which to judge of the 
reality of his own religious experience. The same 
light may shine with vastly different degrees of clear- 
ness, from the meridian blaze down to the faint cre- 
puscular dawn, but the rays come from the same source; 
and that which is now but just discernible in the midst 
of shades of departing night, will go on to increase, 
until it shines more and more to the perfect day. Let 
not the extraordinary clearness and distinctness dis- 
courage those who are sincerely desirous to see " the 
beauty of the Lord," but let them rather take fresh 
courage in a pursuit, which from this example, they 
find may be crowned with glorious success. 4 - Tht v 
that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; 
they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall 
run and not be weary, and they shall walk and not . 
faint." 

12 



134 THOUGHTS UN 



CHAPTER IX. 



Christian experience of R C . Narrative of Sir Richard HiD't 

.ice. 

The following extracts, from a narrative of the Chris- 
tian experience of R C , will serve to illustrate 

some points which have heretofore been treated; par- 
ticularly the gradual manner in which some per 
air brought to the knowledge of the truth: ami the 
extreme difficulty of ascertaining, in many cases, w 
common grace ends and special -race comment 

- 1 grew up," says the narrator, " to manhood with 
very little though! of religion, and without ey 
riencing any serious impressions, except the' a 

occasionally produced hy tin; death of a companion, 

or relative. Whilst I habitually cherished a gi 
dislike to strict religion, which frowned upon a In 
pleasure and amusement, I entertained a strong preju 

dice in favour of Christianity in general, and that 
particular denomination to which my parents and 
ancestors belonged. I call tins a prejudice, tor I 
knew nothing of the evidences of the truth of Chris- 
tianity, and had only a very vague and confused 
notion of what the Scriptures contained; except tint, 
when a child, I had read, frequently, many port 
of the historical parts ol the Bible In tins state of 
mind, I was exposed to the common objections 
infidels; which arose from reading history, and find- 
ing that all nations had their respective religions, in 
which they believed as firmly as we did in ours: and 
the thought occurred, often, 'Why may they not 
in the right, and we in the wrong?' But, about 
tnn<\ infidelity began to prevail, and its abettors to he 
bold in declaring their opinions. My mind 
completely unfurnished with arguments in favour of 
Christianity, that the only thing on which I could fix 
was, that it had come down from my ancestors, and 
the people with whom I was conVersant. generally 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 135 

believed in it. But this was far from satisfying my 
mind. I began to feei uneasy for fear t. v at we werp 
all wrong in our belief; but the thought was never 
pleasing to my mind. As to books of evidences, I 
knew nothing about them, and cannot remember that 
I had ever heard of such works. And I was so situ- 
ated that I had no one to whom I could apply for in- 
struction. The only person with whom I had any 
communication, on literary subjects, was a gentleman, 
who though he said nothing to me on the subject, was 
deeply imbued with skeptical opinions. Being sepa- 
rated from the companions of my youth, and placed 
in a secluded situation, where, except on particular 
occasions, I saw little company, and where there were 
few opportunities of hearing instructive preaching, I 
was cast upon my own thoughts, and my reflections 
were often not very pleasing. One day — it was the 
Lord's day — as I was looking over some books, which 
I had in a trunk, my eye caught the words, ' Internal 
Evidences of the Christian Religion.' I had often 
seen the same book, and never so much as thought 
what the subject of it was; but in my present per- 
plexity, I seized it with avidity, and began to read. 
The work was the celebrated treatise of Soame 
Jenyns, Esq. I never removed from where I was 
sitting until I had finished it, and as I proceeded, the 
light of evidence poured in upon my mind with such 
power of demonstration, that at the conclusion, I had 
the idea of the room being full of resplendent light. I 
enjoyed a pleasure which none can appreciate but 
those who have been led to the contemplation of the 
truth, in like perplexing circumstances. Not only 
were all my doubts removed, but I wanted no more 
evidence. My conviction of the truth of Christianity 
was complete. I believe it could not have been in- 
creased. 

" But still I knew scarcely any thing of the method 
of salvation, revealed in the gospel. I entertained 
the common legal notions of thousands of ignorant 
people, ' that at a convenient time I would become 
good, never doubting, for a moment, of my ability to 



I 36 though rs ON 

do all that was requisite. The only thing which gave 
me uneasiness was, the fear of a sudden death, which 
would not afford me the opportunity of repenting and 
making my peace with God. Bui the hope pi 
that 1 should die a lingering death, and be in my 
senses, and then I would do all that was requisite to 
prepare me inv heaven ; while at the same time, 1 had 
no definite idea, what thai preparation was. During 
this period, I was exposed to few temptations; but 
still some sins had dominion over me. One daj 

child brought to me a small hook" and said that Mrs. T. 

requested that I would read it, and return it soon, 
was borrowed. The til >n Submission to 

the Righteousness of God.' I read the book through 
single Bitting, and again a new light sprung up in my 
mind. The author, ir>the introduction, - ounl 

of his ignorance of the true method of a sinner's justifi- 
cation, until In- had been for years a preacher. He 
w;is ,-i minister of the Church of England. I now 
found thai I likewise had been ;dl my lite ignorant 
the way of salvation : for I entertained the same legal 
and unscriptural notions which he proves to be utl 
erroneous. Although these new \ em to have 

been merely intellectual, yet they afforded me a great 
satisfaction. I bad now a distinct knowledge of the 
gospel method of justification, which I ever after- 
wards retained. Another copy of this hook I t, 
never seen. 

" r L ne preaching, to which I had 
of a wild, fanatical kind, and the way in which I 
heard the new birth described, tended to prejudice me 
against the doctrine of regeneration. I had w 
before heard any thing about this change, and yet I 
was sure that I knew some very good and religious 
people. I began to be troubled to know, whether 
sober, intelligent Christians believed in this doctrine. 
It also became a subject of discussion in the little 
circle with which I was conversant ; and I found that 
one person in the company professed to have expe- 
rienced this change; another was convinced of its 
reality, but professed to he merely an inquirer; a 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 137 

third was of opinion, that it related to the conversion 
of Jews and infidels, and that there was no other re- 
generation, except in baptism ; and the fourth was 
the skeptical gentleman, already mentioned, who was 
incredulous about the whole matter. In these conver- 
sations, I, being young and ignorant, took no part, 
but I listened to them with intense interest. I had 
recourse to such books as I had access to, but could 
find nothing that was satisfactory ; for my range of 
religious books was very narrow, and few of these of 
an evangelical cast. The person of my acquaintance, 
who professed conversion, one day gave me a narra- 
tive of the various steps and changes experienced in 
this transition from darkness to light. As I enter- 
tained a favourable opinion of the veracity and sin- 
cerity of the individual, I began to think there might 
be something in it. Although I had experienced no 
remarkable change thus far, I knew that the subject 
of religion had become one of much more frequent 
thought, and excited much more interest in my mind 
than formerly. One evidence of this was, that I 
commenced secret prayer, a duty utterly neglected 
until this time, except when some one of the family 
was dangerously sick. I had selected a retired spot, 
surrounded by a thick growth of trees and bushes, 
on the margin of a brook. Here I made a kind of 
arbour, over a little plat of green grass, and in the 
summer evenings I would resort to this sequestered 
spot. It was on the afternoon of a Sunday, I was 
reading a sermon on the long-suffering and patience 
of God, in waiting with delaying sinners; and so 
many things applied so exactly to my own case, that 
I became so much affected with a sense of the divine 
goodness and forbearance, in sparing me, and waiting 
so long with me, while I was living in neglect of him, 
that I felt impelled to go out and weep. I was read- 
ing the sermon aloud to the family, by request. I 
laid down the book abruptly, and hastened to my re- 
tirement, where I poured out a flood of tears, in 
prayer. And, suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a 
flood of joy. It was exstatic beyond any thing which 

12* 



138 THOUGHTS OH 

I had ever conceived; for though I thought 
a necessary thing, I never had an idea that tl 
was any positive pleasure in its exercises. Wh< 
this joy originated, I knew not. The only thing which 
had been on my mind was. the goodness and pati< 
of God, and my own ingratitude. Neither can 1 n 
say how long it continued; but the imp 

. that I was in the favour of dod. and sh 
certainly be happy for ever. When the tumult of 
feeling had subsided, I began to think thai this 
conversion — tins was the great change, of which I had 

ntly beard so much. It occurred to me, when 
walking home, that it' this was indeed the cha 

aetc birth, it would be evinced by my for- 
saking all my sins. This suggestion appeared right, 
and I determined to make this th ility. 

All the evening, my mind was in a delightful <• 
Inn the next day my feelings had returned into their 
old channel. I was grieved at this, and resorted to 
the same place where I had experienced <\u\i a d< i - 
lightful frame, in hopes, that by some kind of 
tion, the same scene would be renewed; but though 
there was the place and all the object 
the soul-ravishing vision was not there; and after a 
feeble attempt at prayer, and lingering for some I 
1 returned without meeting any thing winch I sought 
and desired. It was not long before I was subje* 
to tin' test which I had fixed; a temptation to 
ting sin was presented, and I had i 
but was instantly overcome. This failui dm 

inexpressible pain, on reflection. I did not know how 
dear were my cherished hopes until they were wres 
from me. I never felt a keener regret at any loss 
which I ever experienced. 

" Although I was constrained to admit, that I * 
not a regenerated person, I was sensible of a con 
erable change in my views and feelings on the subject 
of religion. I had no longer any doubt of the n. 
sity of regeneration, and entertained some consistent 
notions of what its effects must be. I had, as before 
stated, acquired evangelical views of the way in 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 139 

which a sinner must be justified; ana entertained dii 
ferent feelings from what I had formerly towards 
religious people. Formerly they were objects of dread 
and aversion, now I felt a sincere regard, and high 
respect for the same characters; and was pleased, 
when I heard of any of my friends becoming religious, 
or more serious than before. I had now an oppor- 
tunity of hearing an able minister preach an evange- 
lical sermon on the text, < For our righteousnesses 
are as filthy rags/ &c, and I cannot tell the gratifi- 
cation I experienced, in hearing the doctrine of justi- 
fication, which I had fully embraced, preached dis- 
tinctly and luminously from the pulpit : but when I 
looked around on the audience, I had the impression, 
that they were all, or nearly all, ignorant of what he 
was saying, and were still trusting to their own works. 
It gave me pleasure, also, now, to converse on the 
doctrines of religion ; and I felt a real abhorrence of 
vicious courses. This was my state of mind when 
Providence cast my lot where a powerful revival 
had been in progress for some time. I had witnessed 
something of this kind in a wild, fanatical sect, where 
bodily agitations were common and violent ; but this 
was a different scene. The principal conductor and 
preacher was a man of learning and eloquence ; and 
his views of experimental religion, as I think, most 
correct and scriptural. If he erred, it was on the safe 
side, in believing in the thorough conversion of but a 
small number of those who appeared impressed. In 
entering into this scene, I experienced various new. 
and conflicting feelings. The young converts spoke 
freely, in my presence, of their conviction and con- 
version ; but often with a degree of levity, which sur- 
prised me. In their conversations I could take no 
part, and although my general purpose was to con- 
sider myself an unawakened, unconverted sinner, yet 
when I heard the marks of true religion laid down, 
and especially by the distinguished preacher, before 
mentioned, I could not prevent the thought arising 
continually, ' If this is religion, then you have expe 
rienced it.' This seemed to me to be the suggestion of 



140 THOUGHTS ON 

a false hope, by the enemy, to prevent my falling un- 
der conviction. Still the idea was continually pre- 
sented to my mind, and with the appearance of truth. 
I took occasion to state the matter to the clergyman 
above alluded to, as soon as I could gain access to 
him; for I was diffident and timid, and had n< 
opened my case to any one, freely. I told him all my 
former exercises, and stated distinctly, that they had 
not been sufficient to break the habit oi' sinning, to 
which I wns addicted. As soon as I mentioned tins 
part, he said, in a peremptory tone, 'then su 
your exercises were not of the nature of true 
gion; and you must seek abetter hope or you will 
never be admitted into heaven/ This decisive an- 
swer drove away, from that moment, every idea of 
my being in a state of grace; and 1 felt relieved from 

what I had myself considered ;i temptation, to 
tain a false hope. Now I began to seek conwction s 
as a necessary preliminary to conversion; and ho 
that every sermon which I heard, would be the 
means of striking terror into my soul. I read the 
most awakening discourses, went to hear i! 
arousing preachers ; endeavoured to work on my own 
mind by imagining the awful realities of the judg- 
ment, and tin 4 torments of the damned. I strove to 
draw the covering from tin 1 pit. that 1 mighl behold 
the lake of fire, and hear the waitings of the damned. 
Hut the more, I sought these awful feelings of c 
viction, the further they seemed to fly from me. My 
heart seemed to grow harder every day. I was sen- 
sible of nothing but insensibility. I became discour- 
aged; and the more, because 1 was obliged to 
move from the scene of the revival, to a place w!, 
there was no concern about religion, in the people 
generally; and where, I expected the preaching to be 
cold and lifeless I spent a day before my departure) 
in secret, and in solemn reflection on my deplorable 
and hopeless case. I ran over all the kind dispel 
tions of God's providence towards me, and reflected 
on the many precious means of grace, which I had 
recently enjoyed, without eiiect. The conclusion 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 141 

which seemed now to be forced on my mind was, that 
God had given me up to a hard heart, and that I 
never should be so happy as to obtain religion. This 
conclusion had, to my mind, all the force of a cer- 
tainty; and I began to think about the justice of God 
in my condemnation: and no truth ever appeared 
with more lucid evidence to my mind. I fully justi- 
fied God in sending me to hell. I saw that it was not 
only right, but I did not see how a just God could 
do otherwise. And / seemed to acquiesce in it, as a 
righteous and necessary thing. At this moment, 
my mind became more calm than it had been for a 
long time. All striving and effort on my part ceased, 
and being in the woods, I recollected that it was time 
for me to return to the house, where I expected to 
meet some friends. Here I found a minister waiting 
for me, whom I had seen but never spoken to. He 
took me aside, and began to represent the many pri- 
vileges which I had enjoyed, and expressed a hope 
that I had received some good impressions. I told 
him that it was true, that I had been highly favoured ; 
but that I had now come to a fixed conclusion that I 
should certainly be for ever lost ; for under all these 
means, I had not received the slightest conviction, 
without which my conversion was impossible. He 
replied, by saying, < that no certain degree of con- 
viction was necessary — that the only use of convic- 
tion was, to make us feel our need of Christ as a 
Saviour ; and appealed to me, whether I did not feel, 
that I stood in need of a Saviour/ He then went on 
to say, ' Christ is an advocate at the right hand of 
God, and stands ready to receive any case which is 
committed to his hands, and however desperate your 
case may now appear to be, only commit it to him 
and He will bring you off safely, ' for He is able to 
save to the uttermost all that come unto God by 
Him.' Here, a new view broke in on my mind. 1 
saw that Christ was able to save even me, and I felt, 
willing to give my cause into his hands. This disco- 
very of the bare possibility of salvation, was one of 
the greatest deliverances I ever experienced. I was 



142 THOUGHTS ON 

affected exceedingly with the view, which I had of 
this truth, so as to be unable to speak. Hope now 
sprung up in my desolate sou:— not that I was par- 
doned or accepted. Such a thought did not occur — 
but that it was yet possible, that I might be, h 
after, and I was never to giv ring, 

until 1 obtained the blessing. All thai evening 1 
sweetly composed, and precious promises am 
rations of the word of God came dropping sue 
sively into my mind, as if they had been whispered to 
me. I never could have I, unless I had 

perienced it, that the mere possibility of salvation would 
produce such comfort. 

•• About this time, next morning, probably — when I 
retired to the woods — where my secret devotions \\ 
usually performed, I experienced such a melting of 
heart from a sense of God's goodness to me, as I w 
felt before or since. It seemed as if my eyes — so hard 
to weep commonly — were now a fountain <>f t< 
The very earth was watered with their abundai 
Indeed, my heart itself seemed to be dissolved, jus 
a piece of ice is dissolved by the heat of the sun. of 
the particular exercises of tins melting season, my 
memory does not retain a distinct recollection. 

"For some months I attended to religious dut 
with various fluctuations of feeling. Sometimes I 
entertained a pleasing hope that I was indeed a Chris- 
tian — a renewed person ; but, at other times, I was 
not only distressed with doubts, hut came to the con- 
clusion, that I was stil! in my sins. The only thing 
which I deem it important to mention during this pe- 
riod, was, a deeper discovery of the wickedness of my 
own heart. This conviction of deep-rooted, inherent 
depravity, distressed me much; hut I obtained con- 
siderable relief from reading Owen on 'Indwelling 
Sin.' This book exhibited the state of my heart 
much better than I could have done myself. Still, 
however, I was much dissatisfied with myself, beca 
after so long a time, I had made so little progress. On 
one occasion, at the close of the exercises o( the Sab- 
bath, I was so deeply sensible that my soul was still 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 143 

in imminent clangor of perdition, that I solemnly re- 
solved to begin a new and more vigorous course of 
engagedness to secure my salvation. I had spent 
much time in reading accounts of Christian expe- 
rience, and those which lay down the marks and evi- 
dences of true religion, such as 'Owen on Spiritual 
Mindedness,' 'Edwards on the Affections,' 'Guth- 
rie's Trial of a Saving Interest in Christ/ 'New- 
ton's Letters,' 'Pike and Hayward's Cases of Consci- 
ence,' &c. I also conversed much with old and ex- 
perienced Christians, as well as with those of my own 
age. • But all these having, as it then seemed to me, 
very little facilitated my progress, and the evils of my 
heart seeming rather to increase, I hastily resolved to 
lay aside all books, except the Bible, and to devote 
my whole time to prayer and reading, until I expe- 
rienced a favourable change. In pursuance of this 
purpose, I withdrew into a deeply retired spot, where 
I knew I should be free from all intrusion from mor- 
tals, and began my course of exertion with fasting 
and strong resolution never to relinquish my efforts, 
until I found relief. For five or six hours I was en- 
gaged alternately in reading the Scriptures and at- 
tempting to pray ; but the longer I continued these 
exercises, the harder did my heart become, and the 
more wretched my feelings, until at length I was 
exhausted and discouraged, and began to despair of 
help, and was about returning from my chosen retire- 
ment, in gloomy despondence, when it occurred to 
me with peculiar force, that if I found I could do no- 
thing to helj myself, yet I might call upon God for 
mercy. Accordingly, I fell down before him, and 
said little more than is contained in the publican's 
prayer, ' God be merciful to me a sinner ;' but this I 
uttered with a deep and feeling conviction of 'my utter 
helplessness. The words were scarcely out of my 
mouth, when God was pleased to give me such a 
manifestation of his love in the plan of redemption 
through Christ, as filled me with wonder, love, and 
joy. Christ did indeed appear to me as altogether 
lovely, and I was enabled to view Him as my Saviour, 



144 THOUGHTS ON 

and to see that his sufferings were endured for 
At no time before had I the full assurance of being in 
the favour of God: but now every doubt of this \v;is 
dissipated. I cfmld say, for the first time with un- 
wavering confidence, - My beloved is mine, and I 
am his.' And this assurance of God's favour ai 
not from any suggestion or impulse directly made to 
my mind, but from the clear viaw, thai Christ, 
Saviour, was freely offered, and from a co 
assurance, that I did truly accept the offer. 1 i 
opened my Bible and began to read at the L8th chap- 
ter of John and onward. Every word and sentttnent 
appeared glorious. I seemed to be reading a hook 
which \ is perfectly new, and, truly, th< 
seemed to be illuminated with celestial light. And 
I rejoiced to think thai the Sacred Scriptures would 
always be read in the same manner. How little did 
I know of the spiritual warfare! After my feeli 
had a little subsided, but while the glorious truths 
the Gospel were still in full view, I mad.- a forma 1 
and solemn dedication of myself to God, the Patheij 
Son, and Holy Spirit; and having writing materials 
with me, 1 wrote down the Bubstance of this covenant, 
and subscribed it with my ban 

« I now believed, assuredly, that 1 was reconciled 
to God through Jesus Christ ; but being naturally in- 
clined to be suspicious of myself, I resolved to n 
the Holy Scriptures the test of the genuineness of my 
exercises, and to leave the final determination to the 
fruits produced, as our Lord says. * By their fruits ye 
shall know them/ I remembered that it was written, 
thai faith works by love and purifies the heart. I 
hoped, then tore, that I should now be delivered from 
those evils of the heart with which I had been lately 
so much affected. But, alas! in a few days I found 
that the c old man' was not dead, but had power 
to sr niggle in a fearful manner. I must acknowledge, 
therefore, that, after a few weeks. I was much in the 
same spiritual condition in which I was before this re- 
markable manifestation." 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 145 

Here the narration breaks off abruptly. It will not 
escape the notice of the attentive reader, that in this 
account all circumstances are avoided which could 
lead to the discovery of the writer. The true reason 
of this, I have reason to believe is, that the writer is 
still alive, and has no desire to be made conspicuous. 
It would be attended with no advantage to explain 
by what means this imperfect narrative came into 
my possession. The use which I make of it is not 
contrary to the wishes of the writer, while the injunc- 
tion is peremptory, that no hint shall be given to the 
public, by which it may be conjectured who it is. 

It may be remarked, in the first place, on this nar- 
rative, that sometimes persons are brought along very 
gradually in their acquisition of the knowledge of the 
truth. One discovery is made at one time, and an- 
other truth is revealed at another time ; and between 
these steps there may be a long interval. It may 
again be remarked, that commonly before a person 
comes to the knowledge of a truth, the need of infor- 
mation is sensibly felt; and the appropriate means of 
communicating it are provided. A book, a sermon, 
a casual conversation, may be intimately connected 
with our salvation. Those, who commence a religi- 
ons life, though they may appear sincere, should 
always be urged to go forward; there is much before 
them which they have not yet experienced. If they 
are not yet in the right way they may arrive at it. 
In looking over the various exercises here detailed, I 
am utterly at a loss to say when the work of grace 
commenced. Perhaps, scarcely any two persons, 
taken at random, would agree in this point ; for, while 
some would scarcely admit, that there was any exer- 
cising of saving faith until the last manifestation here 
described, others would be for carrying it back to the 
very beginning of the exercised soul's serious atten- 
tion to religion. However this matter may be deci- 
ded, one thing, I think, is evident, that it is a great 
practical error to suppose, that nothing, connected 
essentially with the sinner's conversion, is experien- 
ced or done, until the moment of his conversion. He 

13 



146 THOUGHTS ON 

may have to unlearn many erroneous opinions, taken 
up through prejudice or inclination. He must le 
the truth of the Christian religion, if unhappily he 
has adopted skeptical notions. He must learn to 
know what the Bible teaches, as to man's duty, and 
the true method of salvation. God's una: 
bringing his chosen into the paths of truth and holi- 
ness are often wonderful. Th 
led in a way which they knew not. How rema 
bly true is this, as it relates to conviction 
When the sinner is most convinced, he thinks 
no conviction at all. And in regard to convers 
what a different thing docs it turn out to be in ej 
rience, from what it was conceived to be beforehand ! 
Whilst the anxious soul was »ting sometl 

miraculous, or entirely out of tl. . he ex| 

ences a new train of thought, new and pleasin 
of truth, with corresponding emotions, by which the 
mind is so occupied, that it has no time n<»r inclina- 
tion to scrutinize the nature or cause <>( these pl< 
ihg exercises. He believes and hoj.es without ask 
himself the question, are these the views and feel 
of a renewed soul? Afterwards, he can look back 
and see thai faith was exercised in these very 
and that the peace which he then enjoyed v 
peace of reconciliation through our Lord Jesus Christ. 
But when the love of God is shed abroad in the heart 
by the Holy Ghost, as described in the last part of 
this narrative, the distressed soul is ra 
once of its happy state, and is made to rejoice in the 
smiles of the divine favour. Then he can no w 
doubt that God is reconciled and has lifted upon him 
the light of his countenance, than that the sun is shining 
at mid-day. All Christians, however, are not favoured 
with these bright discoveries, but alw Ik in ;i 

degrete of darkness, or at best in a mere crepuscular 
light; yet they fear the Lord and obey the voire of 
his servants. I have known instances of some per- 
sons changing their opinion of the time oi their own 
conversion, several times, and fixing it at different 
periods of their experience, as their sentiments be- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 147 

came more correct and mature; and those converts 
who shine forth more brightly at first, are not always 
they who appear best after the lapse of years. 

The following narrative of the experience of Sir 
Richard Hill, written by himself, is found in his life, 
by the Rev. Edwin Sidney, and has been inserted in 
the Christian Observer of London, for September, 1S39. 
We make no apology for its length, as we are confi- 
dent that all who have a taste for this kind of reading, 
will be gratified to have the whole of this interesting 
account, without curtailment. 

" It would not be an easy matter for me to ascertain 
the time, when the first dawnings of divine light began 
to break in upon my soul ; but I remember particu- 
larly that, when I was about eight or nine years of 
age, being then at a neighbouring school, and repeat- 
ing the catechism one Sunday evening with some other 
boys, to the master, I found my heart sweetly drawn 
up to heavenly objects, and had such a taste of the 
love of God, as made every thing else appear insipid 
and contemptible. This was but a transitory glimpse 
of the heavenly gift; and I was no sooner withdrawn 
with the rest of my school-fellows, than my religious 
impressions vanished, and I returned to folly with the 
same eagerness as before. But God did not leave ma 
to myself; I had frequent checks of conscience, and 
the thoughts of death sometimes came forcibly into my 
mind. I remained about two years at the school be- 
fore mentioned, after which I was removed to West- 
minster, where my convictions still pursued me, and 
forced me to several superficial repentances and reso- 
lutions ; but these, being all made in my own strength, 
soon came to nothing. 

" When I had been about four or five years at West- 
minster, I was to be confirmed with several more of 
my school-fellows. I looked upon this as going into a 
new state, and therefore made the most solemn resolu- 
tions of becoming a new creature. But, alas ! my 
happiness and conversion were far from beginning 
here, as I had fondly imagined. The adversary, now 
finding that he was not likely to make me continue 



148 THOUGHTS ON 

any longer in a state of practical wickedness by his 
former stratagems, began to attack me on another side, 
viz. by suggesting horrible doubts concerning th< j \ 
fundamentals of all religion — as th >d — 

the immortality of the soul, and the divine origin of 
the Scriptures. I endeavoured to reason myself into 
the belief of these truths, but all in vain. However, 
I thought I might easily L r <*t some hook that should 
convince me of their certainty. Accordingly, I bor- 
rowed Dr. Beveridge's Private Thoughts, 01 a clergy- 
man's widow, with whom I boarded, she having first 
read to me a few pages in that excellent work. It 
was, to the best of my remembrance, whilst slu^ was 
reading, that such glorious instantaneous light and 
comfort were diffused over my soul, as no tongue can 
express; the love of God was shed abroad in my heart, 
and I rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory. 
However, these comforts, I think, did not last above 
half an hour at most, but went off by degrees, when 
the same doubts succeeded; upon which [again had 
recourse to Bishop Beveridge's Thoughts, or to con ver 
sation on the subject of religion : and for several til 
as I did this, I experienced the same manifestations of 
divine love, which were sometimes o( longer, some- 
times of shinier duration. 

"At length I began to he tired of this state of unc 
tainty, especially as the comforts I had before felt hi j 
to be few and faint. Add to this th<> had example ^\ 
my school-fellows, and the despair I began to be in of 
obtaining satisfaction of the truth of what is called 
natural as well as revealed religion, contributed not a 
little to make me lay aside my inquiries, and to fall 
into many sins that youth and strong passions prompt- 
ed me to ; and this I did with the more eagerness ;>s I 
was desirous of laying hold of every opportunity oi 
turning my thoughts from within myself 

u I believe I might now be about eighteen years 
of age, when, having gone through the school at 
Westminster, I was entered at Magdalen College, 
Oxford, where I continued between four and five 
years. After which I went abroad for about two 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 149 

years more, returning to England in 1757, being then 
about the age of twenty-three or twenty-four. During 
my residence at Oxford and in foreign parts, notwith- 
standing all the wretched pains I took to lull conscience 
asleep, still my convictions pursued me ; yea, the more 
] endeavoured to put from me the thoughts of my soul 
by drinking deeper draughts of iniquity, the more 
strongly did the insulted Spirit plead with me, and 
often in the very act of sin, would so embitter my 
carnal gratifications, and strike me with such deep re- 
morse, that, oh ! horrid to think ! I have even been 
ready to murmur, because God would not let me alone, 
nor suffer me to sin with the same relentless satisfac- 
tion which I observed in my companions. 

" But He that hath loved me with an everlasting 
love, had all this while thoughts of mercy towards 
me, and would not take his loving kindness utterly 
away from me. He therefore waited that he might 
be gracious unto me, and followed me with such loud 
and constant convictions as often brought me upon 
my knees, and sometimes forced me to break off my 
sins for a month, or a quarter of a year together ; for, 
though I still remained full of doubts as to the truth 
of religion, yet I thought that, if there was a God 
and a future state, and if Jesus Christ was indeed the 
true Messiah and the author of eternal salvation to 
those who obey him, I could by no means be saved 
in the state I was in ; and that, being uncertain 
whether these things were so or not, it was the 
highest infatuation to leave the eternal happiness or 
misery of my soul at a peradventure, especially as * 
could be no loser by admitting the truths of religion, 
and livng under their influence; whereas, were I to 
continue in sin under the supposition of their being 
false, I might find myself fatally mistaken, when it 
would be too late to recant or retrieve my error. 
But, notwithstanding I came to this conclusion, and 
plainly saw its reasonableness, yet were my religious 
fits of no long continuance, but every temptation that 
offered itself hurried me impetuously away, and 1 
became seventimes more the child of hell than before. 

13* 



150 THO on 

Nevertheless, every new fall increased my anguish of 
spirit, and set me upon praying and resolving; inso- 
much, that I frequently bound myself under the most 
solemn imprecations. 

"But alas! alas! I was, all this while, no- 

rant of my own weaki Him on whom my 

strength was laid; and therefore no wonder all my 
attempts to make myself holy, were attended with no 
better success than if I bad tried to wash the Ethio- 
pian white, and answered no other end than to dis- 
tress my soul a thousand times more than it' 1 had 
never mule such solemn vows; for, all this while, I 
had no other notion of religion than that it consu 
in something which I was to do in order to mal 

amends for my past sins, and to please him for the tune 

to come; in consideration of which 1 should escape heU 

and be entitled to c\ erle rting life 

" In this manner I went <>n vowing and breaking my 
vows, sinning, and repenting, till my most merciful 

Clod and Saviour, seeing that all his >US calls 

would not overrule the horrible perv 9 of my will, 

instead of giving me up, as in jusl judgment he might 
have done, or pronouncing against me that dreadful 
sentence. 'Cut it down, whycumbereth it the ground V 
— 1 say, instead of this, be began to deal with me after 
a far more violent method than he had hitherto d< 
filling my soul with the most unimaginable terrors, in- 
somuch that I roared for the very disquietness of my 
heart. The arrows of the Almighty stuck fast in me, 
the poison whereof drank up my spirits, and the pains 
of hell gat hold upon me. 

" From this time, which was about October, 1757, 
I may say that sin received its mortal blow, (I mean 
its reigning power, for God knows the body of sin 
yet is far from being done away,) and I set myself to 
work with all the earnestness of a poor perishing 
mariner, who is every moment in expectation 
shipwreck. I fasted, prayed, and meditated: I read 
the Scriptures, communicated, and gave much alms. 
But these things could bring no peace to my soul ; on 
the contrary, I now saw, what I never had seen be 



I 

RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 151 

fore, that all my works were mixed with sin and im- 
perfection. Besides this, Satan furiously assaulted me 
with suggestions that I had committed the unpar 
able sin against the Holy Ghost, and had let my day 
of grace slip; that therefore my prayers were cast oil. 
by God, and were an abomination to him, and that it 
was too late to think of mercy, when it was the time 
of judgment. 

" It is beyond the power of conception, much more 
of expression, to form an idea of the dreadful agonies 
my poor soul was now in. What to do, or to whom 
to have recourse, I knew not; for, alas, I had no ac- 
quaintance with any body who seemed to have the 
least experience in such cases. However, those about 
me showed the greatest concern for my situation, and 
offered their remedies for my relief, such as company, 
physic, exercise, &c, which, in order to oblige them, I 
complied with; but my disorder not being bodily, but 
spiritual, was not to be removed by these carnal quack- 
eries, as they were soon convinced. 

"I recollected, however, that once, if not oftener. 
the Rev. Mr. Fletcher, then tutor to two neighbouring 
young gentlemen, but since vicar of Madely, in this 
county, had, in my hearing, been spoken of in a very 
disrespectful manner, for things which seemed to me 
to savour of a truly Christian spirit. I therefore de- 
termined to make my case known to him, and accord- 
ingly wrote him a letter, without mentioning my name, 
giving him some account of my situation, and begging 
him for God's sake, if he had a word of comfort to 
offer to my poor, distressed, despairing soul, to meet 
me that very night at an Inn in Salop, in which place 
I then was. Though Mr. Fletcher had four or five 
miles to walk, yet he came punctually to the appoint- 
ment, and spoke to me in a very comfortable manner, 
giving me to understand that he had very different 
thoughts of my state from what I had myself. After 
our discourse, before he withdrew, he went to prayer 
with me ; and among other petitions that he put up in 
my behalf, he prayed that I might not trust in my own 



152 THOUGHTS ON 

righteousness, which was an expressing that, though 
I did not ask him its import, I knew not well what to 
make of. 

" After my conversation with Mr. Fletcher, I was 
rather easier, but this decrease of my terrors was but 
for a few days' duration; for, though I allowed that 
the promises and comforts he would hav pply 

to myself belonged to the generality of sinners, yet I 
thought they were not intended for me, who had I 
so dreadful a backslider, and who, by letting my 
of grace slip, had sinned beyond the reach of m< 
Besides I concluded that they could he made effectual 
to oone hut such as had faith to apply them; whei 
I had no faith, consequently they could avail ma 
nothing. I therefore wrote again to Mr. 1\. 
him, as nearly as I can remember, that however ol 
might take comfort from the Scripture promises, 1 
feared none of them belonged to me, who had cruci- 
fied the Sou of (iod afresh, and sinned wilfully D 
having received the knowledge of the truth. I told 
him also, that I found my heart to he exceeding hard 
and wicked : and that, as all my duties proceeded from 
a slavish dread of punishment, and not from the prin- 
ciples o( faith and love, and were withal so wry de- 
fective, I thought it was impos God should 
accept them. In answer to this, the kind and s] 
pathizing Mr. F. immediately wrote n and 
comfortable letter, telling me thai the perusal of the 
account I had given him had caused him to shed 
(ears of joy to see what great things the Lord had 
done for my soul, in convincing me experimental^ 
the insufficiency of all my own doings to justify me 
before God, and of the necessity of a saving faith in 
the blood of Jesus. He also sent me •' The Life and 
Death of Mr. Halyburton, Professor of Divinity in 
the University of St. Andrews/ which book I read 
with the greatest eagerness, as the account Mr. II 
therein gives of himself, seemed in a very particular 
manner to tally with my own experience. I therefore 
thought that what had been, might be ; that the 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 153 

same God who had showed himself so powerfully, 
on the behalf of Mr. H., and delivered him out of all 
his troubles, was able to do the same for me. 

" You will wonder how I could hold out under all 
these pressures, the half of which, I might say, has 
not been told ; and indeed it was impossible I could 
have held out, had it not been that, at those very 
times when I thought all was over with me. there 
would, now and then, dart in upon me some com- 
fortable glimmering of hope, which kept me utterly 
from fainting. 

" In this situation I continued from September 1 757, 
to January 1758, when the Vinerian Professor of 
Oxford being to read a course of lectures upon the 
Common Law, I resolved to set out for that place, 
not through any desire I had to attend the lectures, 
for I had no heart for any such thing, but because I 
knew I should have chambers to myself in college, 
and thereby have an opportunity of being much 
alone, and of giving way to those thoughts, with which 
my heart was big, as also of seeking the Lord with 
greater diligence, if peradventure 1 might find him. 
Accordingly, when I arrived at the University, though 
to save appearances, I dragged my body to several of 
the lectures, yet my poor heavy-laden soul engrossed 
all my attention ; and so sharp was the spiritual an- 
guish I laboured under, that I scarcely saw a beggar 
in the streets, but I envied his happiness, and would 
most gladly have changed situations with him, had 
it been in my power. 0, thought I, these happy 
souls have yet an offer of mercy, and a door of hope 
open to them, but it is not so with me; I have re- 
jected God so long, that now God has rejected me as 
he did Saul ; my day of grace is past, irrecoverably 
past, and I have forever shut myself out of all the 
promises. 

"All this while, one thing that greatly astonished 
me was, to see the world about me so careless and 
unconcerned, especially many that were twice my 
age amongst the Doctors of Divinity, and fellows of 
the college. Surely, thought I, these people must b6 



154 THOUGHTS ON 

infatuated indeed, thus to mind earthly things and to 
follow the lusts of the flesh, when an eternity of hap- 
piness or misery is before them, when they know not 
how short a time they have to live, and their ever- 
lasting state depends on the present moment 

"It was now the season of Lent, the first or second 
Sunday in%which, the sacrament of the Lord's Su: 
is always administered in Magdalen College Chapel. 
I therefore besought the Lord with strong cry, 
that he would vouchsafe me some token for _ 
some sense of his love towards me, and willing 
be reconciled to me, that 1 might wait upon him at his 
table without distraction, and partake of those I 
which that ordinance is instituted to convey to 
souls of true believers. 

"And 0, for ever and for ever Messed be his h 
name, he did not reject the prayer of the poor desti- 
tute; he heard ine what tune the storm fell upon me, 
and, I make no doubt, had heard, and, in his pur; 
at least, answered me, from the first day he incli 
my heart to understand, and to seek after him. I>ut 
he knew better than I did myself, when u w*as meet 
to speak peace to my soul, and th waited that 

he might be gracious unto me; first in order to < 
vince me the more deeply of the exceeding sinfuli 
of sin, and the desert thereof: secondly, to show me 
more experimentally my own weakness and the in- 
sufficiency of any righteousness of my own to recom- 
mend me to his favour; thirdly, to male me prize 
more highly, and hunger and thirst more earnestly, 
for Jesus Christ, and the salvation that is in him. 
These ends" being in some measure answered, on 
Saturday, February 18th, to the best of my rem 
brance, the night before the sacrament, it pleased the 
Lord, after having given me, for a few days he: 
some taste of his love, first to bring me into a c 
posed frame of spirit, and then to convey such a tho- 
rough sense of his pardoning grace and mercy to my 
poor soul, that I, who was just before trembling upon 
the brink of despair, did now rejoice with joy un- 
s; eakable and full of glory! The love of God was 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 155 

shed abroad in my heart through the Holy Ghost that 
was given unto me, even that perfect love which cast- 
eth out fear ; and the Spirit itself bore witness with 
my spirit that I was a child of God. 

" For some time after these sensible manifestations 
of God's love were withdrawn, my mind was com- 
posed and my hope lively ; but I had still, at seasons, 
secret misgivings and many doubts as to the reality of 
my conversion, which put me seriously to examine my 
state, whether the Scripture marks of a work of grace 
were really to be found in me or not ; and in these 
examinations I had great help from those excellent 
books, Guthrie's Trial of a Saving Interest in Christ, 
and Palmer's Gosjel New Creature. Add to this, that 
being now in London, I had there the opportunity of 
hearing that faithful minister of Christ, the Rev. Mr. 
Romaine, whose discourses were so exactly descriptive 
of, and adapted to, my own experience, that they 
afforded me a good confirmation that I was indeed 
passed from death unto life, and from the power of 
Satan unto God. 

u During my stay in London, it pleased God to 
make me acquainted with many of his people, to 
whom my heart was immediately knit with the closest 
affection ; yea, so great was my love to all those, in 
whom I discerned the Divine image of the Lord Jesus, 
that the yearnings of Joseph's heart towards his breth- 
ren will but very faintly express it. Be they who or 
what they would, high or low, rich or poor, ignorant 
or learned, it mattered not ; if I had reason to believe 
they were born of God and made partakers of a divine 
nature; they were equally dear to me; my heart was 
open to receive them without reserve, and I enjoyed 
the sweetest fellowship and communion with them, 
whilst all other company was insipid and irksome. 

" For about two years after this, I was, in a good 
measure, relieved from those piercing terrors and that 
deep distress with which I was before overwhelmed. 
This, you will say, was living upon frames and expe- 
riences, more than upon the exceeding great and pre- 
cious promises made to reruming sinners in Christ 



156 THOUGHTS ON 

Jesus. It is true it was so, and of this God soon i 
vinced me; for I now began to doubt wheth< 
great comforts I had set so high a value upon, might 
not be all delusion, or proceed from the working 
my own spirit: and if so, my case was just as bad as 
ever. My day of grace might still be past, and nothing 
yet remain for me but *a fearful looking for of j . 
men! and fiery indignation. 1 

"This was in April, 1759, soon after my return from 
London into Shropshire, where 1 had not been 
before' I wrote to Mr. Fletcher, giving him an account 
of my stat.'. After this it pleased the Lord to remove 
my burthen, and to exchange these sharp terrors of 
the spirit of bondage, for the sweet reviving comforts 
of the spirit of adoption, showing me the rich treasures 
of Gospel promises, and that they, and net my own 
frames, were to be the ground ^>i my hope and my 
stay in '-veiv time of need. Since this time, I may 
say with Bishop Cowper, that my soul has never 
experienced the like extremity of terror ; and though 
I have had many ups and downs, many grievous temp- 
tations and sharp conflicts, much aridity of SOUl, dra<i- 
ness, and strong corruptions to fight against, yet have 
I always found the Lord to he a very present help in 
trouble; Ins grace has been sufficient for me in every 
hour of need, and I doubt not hut all his dealings with 
me, however thwarting to my own ideas of what was 
fit and meet for me, have some way or other been sub- 
servient to my spiritual interest, since his most sure 
promise is that all things work together for good, to 
them that love God and are the called according 
bis purpose." 



CHAPTER X. 

Imperfect sanctification. — The spiritual warfare. 

It may be difficult to account for the fact, that when 
the power of God was as sufficient to make the sin- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 157 

'ier perfect, in the new creation, as to implant a prin- 
ciple of spiritual life, he should have left the work 
imperfect ; and that this imperfection, according to 
our views of Scripture, and of the fact as made 
Known by experience, should continue through the 
whole period of human life, to whatever extent it may- 
be protracted. Some, indeed, seem to suppose, that 
the remainders of sin in believers are seated in the 
body, and therefore as long as this sinful body con- 
tinues, this inbred corruption will manifest itself, more 
or less. This opinion seems to have been imbibed, at 
a very early period of the history of the church, and 
was probably derived from the Platonic philosophy, 
which considers matter to be the origin of evil. From 
this view of the seat of indwelling sin, men, in all 
ages, who entertained it, have been led to lay great 
stress on fasting and other bodily austerities, by which 
the body was enfeebled and emaciated. But, the 
principle assumed being false, all that is built upon it 
must be false likewise. The body, though infected 
with the pollution of sin, through its connexion with 
the soul, is not, and cannot be the source of iniquity. 
Mere matter, however curiously organized and ani- 
mated, is, apart from the soul, no moral agent, and 
therefore not susceptible of moral qualities. Sin must 
nave its origin and seat in the free rational soul ; and 
the appetites and passions, which have their seat in 
the body, partake of the nature of sin, by their excess 
and irregularity, and by their cravings, often influence 
the will to choose that which is not good, or is not the 
best. Still, however, the body is a great clog to the 
soul, and the appetites and passions, which are seated 
in the body, being very urgent in their cravings for 
gratification, greatly disturb the exercises of piety, 
and sometimes prevail against the higher principles 
which by grace have been implanted. As the body 
is also subject to various diseases, these, on account 
of the close connexion between the soul and body, 
mightily affect the mind, and often create a great hin- 
derance to devotion, and the exercises of piety. 

Where two opposite principles exist in the same 

14 



158 THOUGHTS ON 

soul, there must be a perpetual jonliict betweer 
them, until "the weaker dies." Rut as the "old 
man," though crucified, never becomes extinct in this 
life, this warfare between the flesh and the spirit never 
ceases until death. As these opposite moral princi- 
ples operate through the same natural faculties and 
affections, it is a matter of course, that as the one gains 
strength, the other must be proportionally weaken 
and experience teaches that the most effectual v. 
to subdue the power ni' sin, is. to cherish and exer- 
cise the principle of holiness. Hut, if the love of God 
grows cold, or declines in vigour, then the motions of 
sin become more lively, and the Btirringof inbred cor- 
ruption is sensibly experienced, .lust then, in the same 
proportion, will the principle of evil he diminished, 
as the principle of grace is strengthened. Bvery vic- 
tory, over any particular lust, weakens its power ; and 
by a steely growth iii grace, such advantage is ob- 
tained over inbred sin, thai the advanced Christian 
maintains the mastery over it, and is not subject to 

those violent struggles which were undergone when 
this warfare commenced. Young Christians, h< 

ever, are often greatly deceived by the appearance of 

tin: death o\' sin, when it only sleeps, or deceitfully 
hides itself, waiting for a more favourable opportunity 
to exert itself anew. When such an one experiei 
in some favoured moment, the love of God shed 
abroad in his heart, sin appears to be dead, and tl 
lusts which warred against the soul, to be extin- 
guished; but when these lively feelings have pas 
away, and carnal objects begin again to entice, the 
latent principle of iniquity shows itself; and often 
that Christian who had fondly hoped that the enemy 
was slain and the victory won, and in consequence, 
ceased to watch and pray, is suddenly assailed and 
overcome by the deceitfulness of sin. Christians are 
more injured in this warfare, by the insidious and 
secret influence of their enemies lulling them into the 
sleep of carnal security, than by all their open and 
violent assaults. No duty is more necessary, in main- 
taining this conflict, than watchfulness. Unceas 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 159 

vigilance is indispensable. "Watch and pray that 
ye enter not into temptation/' — " and what I say unto 
you, I say unto all, Watch." Lawful pursuits are 
more frequently a snare than those which are mani- 
festly sinful. It is a duty "to provide things honest 
in the sight of all men," but while this object is in- 
dustriously pursued, the love of the world gradually 
gains ground. The possession of wealth is viewed as 
important. Eternal things are out of view, or viewed 
as at a great distance, and the impression from them 
is faint. Worldly entanglements and embarrassments 
are experienced; the spiritual life is weakened. A 
sickly state commences, and a sad declension ensues. 
Alas ! for the Christian now. Where is the burning 
zeal with which he commenced his course ? Where 
now are the comforts of religion, with which he was 
so entirely satisfied, that thenvorld was viewed as an 
empty bauble? Where now is his spirit of prayer, 
which made this duty his delight? Where his love of 
the Bible, which drew him aside often from worldly 
business to peruse its sacred instructions ? ! what a 
change ! Reader, it is, perhaps, thy own case. " Thou 
art the man" who hast thus fallen, and left thy first 
love. " Repent, therefore, and do the first works," 
lest some heavy judgment fall upon thee. God holds 
a rod for his own children, and when the warnings 
and exhortations of the word, and the secret whis- 
pers of the Spirit are neglected, some painful provi- 
dence is sent — some calamity, which has so much 
natural connexion with the sin, as to indicate that it 
is intended as a chastisement for it. These strokes 
are often very cutting and severe, but they must be 
so to render them effectual. " No chastening for the 
present, seemeth to be joyous, but grievous, never- 
theless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of 
righteousness unto them which are exercised there- 
by." Our heavenly Father afflicteth not willingly, 
but " for our profit, that we might be panakers of his 
holiness." The followers of Dr. Hawker, in England, 
who are ultra Calvinists, entertain the opinion, that 
••'the law in our members" is not, in the least, affected 



160 THOUGHTS ON 

or weakened, by our regeneration or sanctification 
but that through life, it remains the very same, no 
how weakened in its strength, by any progress in the 
divine life which the Christian may make. But this is 
contrary to the word of God, which speaks of "dying 
daily unto sin" — of < fc mortifying the deeds of the body" 
— "crucifying the flesh," &c. The same opinion, or 
one near akin to it, was held by Mr. William Walker, 
of Dublin, which he brings to view in his able -ad- 
dress to the Wesleyan Methodists." His opinion, how- 
ever, I think, was, that there is no such thing as a pro- 
gressive work of sanctification which word properly 
means a consecration to God. 

In a former chapter, I mentioned the different views 
of different denominations of Christians respecting the 
nature of the soul's exercises in conversion, but this 
difference is far more considerable as it relates to the 
spiritual conflict and sanctification. It is far from the 
wish of the writer to give offence to any body of 
Christians, much less to provoke controversy. This is 
no proper field for controversy. In the midst of this 
militant state, there ought to be one peaceful ground, 
where all true followers of Jesus might sit down to- 
gether and compare their experiences of the loving 
kindness and faithful dealings of their Lord and Mas- 
ter. But surely it ought not to be offensive to any 
body of Christians simply to state what their views 
are in regard to experimental religion, and how far 
they agree or differ from those of other Christians. 
If there be mistakes, or erroneous views, on any side, 
they should be considered and corrected. And the 
writer of these essays will be thankful to any one 
who will kindly point out any mistakes in regard to 
matters of fact into which he may happen to fall. 
There has long been a difference of opinion respect- 
ing the true interpretation of the seventh chapter of 
the epistle to the Romans, inregard to Paul's descrip- 
tion of the spiritual conflict, whether he describes the 
exercises of a convinced sinner, whom he personal 
or whether he does not express honestly the feelings 
of his own heart, and describe the painful conflict be- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 161 

tvveen the powers of sin and holiness which was go- 
ing on in his own bosom. The latter, undoubtedly, 
is the obvious meaning, for the apostle speaks in the 
first person, and gives no notice of introducing a per- 
son of another character ; and some of the expres- 
sions here employed, are as strongly descriptive of a 
regenerate heart as any in the Bible. Who, but a re- 
generate man, can say, " I delight in the law of God 
after the inward man !" And the closing words show 
clearly enough, that the apostle was detailing the 
exercises of his own soul ; for he gives thanks to God 
for giving him the victory, in this severe conflict, but 
•still intimates that the two irreconcilable principles 
continued, according to their respective natures, to ope- 
rate within him. " I thank God, through Jesus Christ 
our Lord. So then, with the mind, I myself serve the 
law of God, but with the flesh, the law of sin." Armi- 
nius began his career of departure from the commonly 
received opinions of the reformed churches, by writing 
a book in exposition of the vii. of the Romans ; and it 
is a remarkable coincidence that Faustus Socinus, in 
Poland, was engaged at the same time in writing a 
book on the same subject, and to support the same 
views. This subject is excellently treated in one of 
President Dickinson's Letters; and more largely by 
" Frazer on Sanctification." The same subject is also 
treated accurately and judiciously by Dr. Hodge, in his 
commentary on the Epistle to the Romans. It is un- 
derstood that the followers of MY. John Wesley, hold, 
in conformity with his recorded opinion, that sancti- 
fication is not a gradual and progressive work, which 
remains imperfect in the best, in this life, but that, like 
regeneration, it is instantaneous, and that the result is a 
complete deliverance from indwelling sin ; so that from 
that moment they are perfectly holy, and sin no more — 
unless they fall from this high state of grace — in thought, 
word, or deed. Here then there can be no similarity 
between the religious experience of an Arminian, who 
has attained sanctification, and a Calvinist, who is 
seeking to grow in grace and in the knowledge of our 
Lord Jesus Christ. The one is conscious of no sin, 

14* 



162 THOUGHTS ON 

inward or outward, of nature or of act, and must have 
perpetual joy — a heaven on earth ; while the other is 
groaning under a deep sense of inherent depravity, 
which works powerfully against his will, and continu- 
ally interrupts and retards his progress. His frequent 
language is "0 wretched man that I am, who shall 
deliver me from the body of this death !" Here, indeed, 
we have a wide difference in the religious expert 
of professing Christians; and it must be acknowled§ 
that if the experience of the Anninian is in accordance 
with the word of God, he has greatly the ad van! 
over the contrite, broken hearted penitent, whose com- 
plaints are so great that they often cause linn to wet 
his couch with tears. How to reconcile these widely 
different views of our condition as sanctified sinners, I 
know not. There must he a grand mistake somewhere; 
and I sincerely pray to God, that if my views on this 
subject are erroneous, they may be corrected ! 

The Christian is a soldier, and must expect to en- 
counter enemies, and to engage m many B 
conflict. The young convert may well be likened to 
a raw recruit just enlisted. lie feels joyous and 
strong, full of hope and lull of courage. When the 
veteran Christian warns him of coming dangers and 
formidable enemies, and endeavours to impress on 
his mind a sense of his weakness and helplessness 
without divine aid, he does not understand what he 
says. He apprehends no dangers or enemies which 
he is not ready to face, and is ready to think that the 
aged disciples, with whom he converses, have been 
deficient in courage and skill, or have met with ob- 
stacles which are now removed out of the way. He 
views the contests, of which they speak, as the young 
soldier does the field of battle at a distance, while he 
is enjoying his bounty-money, and marches about 
with a conscious exultation, on account of his mili- 
tary insignia, and animated with martial music. 
The young Christian is commonly treated by his 
Lord with peculiar tenderness. He is like the babe, 
dandled on the knee, and exposed to no hardships. 
His frames are lively, and often joyous, and he lives 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 163 

too much upon them. His love to the Saviour and to 
the saints is fresh and fervent, and his religious zeal, 
though not well regulated by knowledge, is ardent. 
He often puts older disciples to the blush by the 
warmth of his affections, and his alacrity in the ser- 
vice of his Redeemer ; and it is well, if he does not 
sometimes indulge a censorious spirit, in judging those 
who have been long exercised in the spiritual life. 
This is indeed the season of his " first love" which 
began to flow in the day of his espousals ; and though 
occasionally dark clouds intercept his views, these are 
soon forgotten, when the clear sunshine breaks forth to 
cheer him on his way. During this period he delights 
in social exercises, especially in communion with those 
of his own age ; and in prayer, and in praise, and spi- 
ritual conversation, his heart is lifted up to heaven, 
and he longs for the time, when he may join the songs 
of the upper temple. But ere long the scene changes. 
Gradually the glow of fervent affections subsides. 
Worldly pursuits, even the most lawful and necessary, 
steal away the heart ; and various perplexing entangle- 
ments beset the inexperienced traveller. He begins to 
see that there were many things faulty in his early 
course. He blames his own weakness or enthusiasm ; 
and, in avoiding one extreme he easily falls into the 
opposite, to which human nature has a strong bias. 
He enters into more intercourse with the world, and, 
of course, imbibes insensibly some portion of its spirit. 
This has a deadening effect on his religious feelings ; 
and his devotions are less fervent and less punctual ; 
and far more interrupted with vain, wandering thoughts, 
than before ; and he is apt to fall into a hasty or formal 
attendance on the daily duties of the closet ; and a 
little matter will sometimes lead him to neglect these 
precious seasons of grace. A strange forgetfulness of 
the presence of God, and of his accountableness for 
every thought, word, and action, seizes upon him. 
Close self-examination becomes painful, and when at- 
tempted, is unsuccessful. New evils begin to appear 
springing up in the heart. The imagination, before he 
is aware, is filled with sensual imagery, which afford 



164 THOUGHTS ON 

ing carnal pleasure, the train of his thoughts is with 
difficulty changed. A want of prompt resolution is 
often the occasion of much guilt, and much unhappi- 
Pride is sure to lifl its head when God is out of 
view; and it is wonderful how this ami kindred evils 
will get possession and grow, so as to be visible to 
others, while the person himself Lb not aware of tlit 
Anger, impatience, fretfulness, envy, undue 
indu >f the appetites, love of riches, I - for 

dress and show, the love of aversion to spiritual 

duties, with numerous similar and nameless e 

bred in the heart, and cum.' forth to annoy 
and retard the Christian in his course. His p 
makes him unwilling to bpen his ear to friendly and 

rnal reproof; such words fall heavily on him, 

and wound his morbid sensibility, so that a conflict 

takes pkiee between a ;' duty and unmortified 

pride. He inwardly feels that the rebuke of a brother 

ust, and should l"' improved to the amendment of 

evil pointed out ; but pride cannot brook tlie 
thought of being ed and humbled ; and he tries 

ind something in the manner or circum 
which can be censured; or suspicion will ascril 

bad motive, [f in this spiritual conflict, pride 
gain the victory, alas! how much sin foil 
in its train; — resentment towards a kind brother, hy- 
pocrisy in concealing the real dictates of nee, 
and approbation of the inner man; and a neglect of 
all efforts at improvement. The person thus circum- 
stanced, is instinctively led to endeavour to persuade 
himself that he has done right. Still, however, the 
e of his better part is that of self-condemna- 
tion. But he hushes it up, and assumes an air of 

i » Mice and boldness, and thus the Spirit is izricv 
Who can describe the train of evils which ensue, on 
one defeat of this kind? The mind becomes dark 
and desolate; communion with God is interrupted, 
and a course of backsliding commences, which some- 
times goes on for years, and then the wanderer is not 
arrested and brought back without severe chastisement. 
In such cases the judgments of God against his own 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 165 

straying children are fearful ; and if any expeiience 
them not, who have thus declined, it is because they 
are not children; "for what son is he whom the father 
chasteneth not?" 

Worldly prosperity has ever been found an unfavour- 
able soil for the growth of piety. It blinds the mind 
to spiritual and eternal things, dries up the spirit of 
prayer, fosters pride and ambition, furnishes the appro- 
priate food to covetousness, and leads to a sinful con- 
formity to the spirit, maxims, and fashions of the world. 
Some few have been enabled to pass this ordeal, with- 
out serious injury; and have come forth like the three 
children from Nebuchadnezzar's furnace, without the 
smell of fire on their garments; but this could not have 
been unless the Son of Man had been with them. Such 
persons use all their health, influence, and wealth in 
promoting the kingdom of Christ ; but generally, God 
in mercy, refuses to give worldly prosperity to his 
children. He "hath chosen the poor of this world, rich 
in faith ;" that is, he hath commonly chosen poverty as 
the safest condition for his children. His are " an af- 
flicted and poor people, and they shall trust in the 
name of the Lord." But the poor have their conflicts 
and temptations, as well as the rich. They are con- 
tinually tempted to discontent, to envy at the prosperity 
of the rich, and sometimes to use unlawful means to 
satisfy their craving wants. On account of the dangers 
of both these conditions, Agur prayed, "Give me nei- 
ther poverty nor riches ; feed me with food convenient 
for me ; lest I be full and deny thee, and say, who is 
the Lord ; or lest I be poor and steal, and take the name 
of my God in vain." But in whatever state Provi- 
dence has placed us, we should therewith be content 
Certainly when Christians make haste to be rich, they 
are not governed by the wisdom which cometh from 
above. No wonder that they pierce themselves through 
with many sorrows, and are often in danger of eternal 
perdition. If we sought wealth from no other motive 
but to use it for God's glory, it would do us no harm ; 
for this principle would regulate the pursuit; so that it 



166 THOUGHTS ON 

would nol be detrimental to the kingdom of God with- 
in us. 

The enemies of the Christian have been commonly 
divided into three classes, the world, the flesh, and the 
devil; but though these may be conceived of, and 
spoken of separately, they resist the Christian soldier 
by their combined powers. The devil is the agent, 
the world furnishes the bait or the object of tempta- 
tion, and the flesh, or our own corrupt nature, is the 
subject on which the temptation operates. Sometimes, 
indeed, Satan injects his fiery darts, enkindled in hell, 
to frighten the timid soul, and drive it to despair; but 
in this he often overshoots his mark', and drives the 
poor trembling soul nearer to his Captain, whose broad 
shield affords ample protection. And we are not to 
suppose that we are not often led astray by the entice- 
ments of sin within us, without the aid of Satan; but 
We need not he afraid of charging too niueh evil upon 
this arch adversary. He IS ever on the alert, and is 
exceedingly cautious in his approaches. J. om: expe- 
rience has doubtless greatly increased his power and 
subtlety, unless he should be more restrained than for* 

merly. Some people make a mock of Satan's tempta- 
tions, as though they were the dreams of superstitious 

souls. Not so Paul, and Peter, and John — not so Lu- 
ther, and Calvin, and Zuingle. Not so any who un- 
derstand the nature of the spiritual warfare. It is to 
the great injury of many professors, that they are not 
constantly on the watch against the wiles of the devil. 
If you wish to know where he will be likely to meet 
you, I would say, in your closet, in the church, on your 
bed, and in your daily intercourse with men. A single 
thought which suddenly starts up in your mind, will 
show that the enemy is near, and is suggesting such 
thoughts, as without his agency never can be account- 
ed for. "Watch, therefore," "resist the devil, and he 
•yill flee from you." 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. lb 



CHAPTER XI. 



Narrative of G A S , an Episcopal Clergyman. — Nana 

tive of a young Officer in the Army. 

The following is the religious experience of G 

A S , an Episcopal Clergyman in H- 



which he recently communicated to the author of th 
essays, to be used as he might think proper. 

"I entered the military academy at West Point, in 
the summer of 1825; the second year of the present 
Bishop Mcllvaine's residence there as chaplain. I 
sat under his preaching ' as with the Spirit of God.' 
with eyes that did not see, and ears that did not hear. 
The chaplain departed, the curse was still upon my 
soul. Finally, I became much involved in the spirit 
of infidelity, together with several others. One even- 
ing, in particular, I trembled at the thoughts of our 
conversation : in the darkness of our minds, we had 
denied all. A few days afterwards, one of my com- 
panions, noted for his brightness of intellect, called at 
my room, and said, I have been reading Alexander's 
•Evidences of the Christian Religion,' and it has almost 
persuaded me to be a Christian. I well remember 
with what great delight I received the communica- 
tion, resolving to get the book, and ' see if those things 
were so :' not however, with any view or desire of 
becoming a Christian at present. In due time, the 
book was procured, I retired to my room, my heart as 
hard as the mill-stone, the heavens over my head as 
brass, and the earth beneath my feet as iron. T 
opened to the introduction, the most blind of unbe 
lievers; all around me was perfect clouds and dark- 
ness. I began to read, I had proceeded half way. 
through the introduction, and was svddenly im- 
pressed that the religion of Christ teas of God. I 
did not doubt its truth more than I did my life : yet I 
was entirely without argument. At that time I could 
have given no reason, yet I did not doubt. I felt 
a perfect belief that an Omnipotent Spirit did it. 



168 THOUGHTS ON 

Before, I hardly believed there was a God : now I felt 
it as by a two-edged sword. It was a most awfully 
sublime moment; yet I had not the least fear. I did 
not even think of sin. The next impression was 
that I was undergoing a conversion. This, I would 
not then: the thought was very pleasant, that now I 
knew Christ died for the world; and that at some 
future time, I would go further in his love. I was 
happy, sublime; no terror; a thought did not enter my 
mind of the consequence of delay. To avoid the 
progress of conversion, I threw down the book per- 
fectly satisfied, for I had attained to one of the most 
splendid pieces of consciousness imaginable; a sight 
beyond the veil, within eternity, worth thousands of 
worlds to me. I turned to think of something i 
And oh ! the horrors of hell, how they came llooding 
in upon my soul. I felt that an Omnipotent hand 
was guiding them there. Commensurate with my 

agony, was my awful sense of sinfulness; a convic- 
tion of sin, righteousness, and judgment to come, r 
before my eyes in immense reality. I felt no anguish, 

no fear, no sin. until I resolved not to attend to these 
things at present* My anguish of soul became in- 
supportable, it thickened and darkened, I could not 
endure it longer. And with the sole vieiv of escaping 
my present misery. I resolved to yield to the will of 
that Mighty Being who was rending my soul. I in- 
stantly caught up the book, and offered a prayer for 
mercy. The intensity of my anguish began immedi- 
ately to subside. The wrath of God seemed to miti- 
gate, in a few moments, I settled down into a state of 
deep and solemn conviction of sin ; a state more tolera- 
ble than the former ; but still one of gloom so thick 
that it could be felt. A mountain weight pressed 
upon my soul; how. to remove it I knew not, for the 
spirit still held me bound. I did not know but this 
was to continue through life. I endeavoured to lose 
my feelings, and feel at ease, but I could not. I knew 
nothing of the way of salvation ; I had no spiritual 
guide ; but in order to keep my present sorrow as 
light as possible, I continued to read and pray for 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 169 

mercy. Thus I continued in the wilderness for about 
a week : when, sitting by my fireside, dwelling upon 
my despair, a sudden light came down from heaven; 
I saw the open gate — ' the way, the truth, and the 
life 9 — -a new song was put into my mouth, and I re- 
joiced with joy unspeakable, and full of glory ! Un- 
speakable gratitude be to the Father, Son, and Holy 
Ghost, for ever and ever. I have thought that two 
particulars in the above are worthy of notice. 1st. 
The motives that actuated me. 2d. That being per- 
fectly ignorant of the w r ay of salvation, the Spirit was 
a perfect teacher." 

There are several things very remarkable in the 
preceding narrative. The delight at finding an infidel 
companion convinced, or almost convinced of his 
error ; the desire to see the book which had produced 
this effect ; the sudden persuasion of the truth of the 
Christian religion, by a sudden impression on the mind ; 
the elevated happiness experienced on account of hav- 
ing discovered the truth; the determination still not 
to become a Christian at present; the horror and an- 
guish consequent on this resolution ; the relief obtained 
by resuming attention to religion ; and finally, the 
discovery of the way of salvation through Christ, 
when the moment before, no idea was entertained of 
such a way, are all remarkable circumstances ; and to 
some, may seem to savour of enthusiasm. But we 
cannot prescribe limits to the Holy Spirit, in his ways 
of leading benighted souls into the path of life. Still, 
it may be asked, how could there be a rational convic- 
tion of the truth of Christianity, when the individual 
knew no reasons or arguments in favour of it? To 
which it may be answered, that Christianity has a 
light of its own, independent of all external evidences ; 
and if the Spirit of God cause one ray of this divine 
light to irradiate the mind, the truth becomes mani- 
fest. This person was on the borders of atheism. 
By an awful impression on his mind, God caused 
him to feel and know that He existed, and held him 
in his hand ; and at the same time, let a ray of light 
from Divine Revelation into his mind. Suppose a 

15 



170 THOUGHTS ON 

number of human beings to be educated in a dark 
cavern, where they never saw the light of heaven; 
but being visited by one and another who testified 
to them the existence of the celestial luminaries, the 
candid among them, upon weighing the evidence, 
would acknowledge the existence of such bodies ; 
although, of necessity, their conceptions of these 
objects would be very inadequate. But some, de- 
pending on their own reason, might reject the testi- 
mony as a mere fabrication, since what was related 
was totally contrary to all their own experience. Sup- 
pose then that the guardian of these subterran 
inhabitants, should take one of these skeptics to a 

point where' a single ray of light from the sun should 
be let in upon his eyes, how wonderful the sensation. 
how sublime the emotion, how strong now the per- 
suasion of the existence of sueh a hright luminary ! 
The doubts of such an one, however deep and in 
erate, would be dissipated in a moment; not hy 
argument: where we possess intuition, argument is 
superfluous. So, in the case before us, one ray of 
divine light produced instantaneously the undoubted 
persuasion of the divine existence, and that the Chris- 
tian religion was from God. The next ray of light 
opened to the astonished view of the man, the awful 
sinfulness of his character, and discovered to him that 
he was in the hands of an angry (rod, from whose 
terrors he could not escape; and the third cast a clear 
light on the way of salvation, filling the soul with 
joy unspeakable. The only thing which seems con- 
trary to our common theory is, that the person sup- 
posed that he was taught the method of salvation hy 
the Spirit, without any aid from the external teaching 
of the word. Now, this is very possible ; but it would 
be of the nature of inspiration and not mere iV/ti- 
mination. I am, therefore, of opinion, that there was 
within the knowledge of the individual so much ac- 
quaintance with Christ and his mediatorial work, that. 
agreeably to his usual method, the Spirit took of 
the things of Christ, and showed it unto him. And 
although now, when inspiration has ceased, the Spirit 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 171 

makes no new revelations to men ; yet he often brings 
to their remembrance truths once known, but which 
may have been long forgotten ; according to John 
xiv. 26 : see also xvi. 8 — 14. One single evangelical 
text may be made the object of saving faith. 

It is exceedingly gratifying to be made acquainted 
with such cases. It shows that the Holy Spirit, who 
operates where and when he will, is often at work 
on the minds of those whom we would least sus- 
pect to be thus visited. Here a thoughtless cadet at 
our Military Academy, falls into infidelity, yea, athe- 
ism ; is surrounded by companions in the same state 
of mind. Providence throws a book of " Evidences" 
in his way; and, while he reads, a new light darts 
into his mind ; not from the book, but from the Father 
of lights, and this infidel young man becomes a preach- 
er of that very gospel, which he aimed to destroy. 
Laus Deo. To God be all the glory ! 

The writer of the following narrative, is a young 
officer of high promise, belonging to the American 
army. It is a pleasing thing to find that men, who, 
by their profession, are commonly far removed from 
the usual means of grace, are not beyond the reach of 
the divine mercy. It is much to be desired that both 
our army and navy should be supplied with a com- 
petent number of pious and exemplary chaplains ; but 
this want seems to be very little felt, and therefore is 
very imperfectly provided for. When men of either of 
these professions embrace religion, they are commonly 
remarkable for the eminence of their piety. The fact 
is, that they are exposed to so much ridicule and op- 
position, that unless their religious impressions were 
string, and their resolutions firmly fixed, they would not 
be able to stand up against the opposing current. 

This narrative will at least encourage the hearts of 
pious parents, who have sons in exposed situations, 
not to despair of their conversion, but to be incessant 
in their prayers, that God would graciously follow 
them with the strivings of his Moly Spirit, and in due 
season bring them to the foot of the cross. And may 
it not be a good opportunity to remind all praying 



172 



THOUGHTS ON 



persons, that in the variety of their intercessions, the 
young men in our army and navy should not be 
gotten? As long as such institutions are needed, they 
who are set for the defence of our country, by sea and 
land, should not be forgotten in the prayers of Chris- 
tians and of the Church. 

"I entered the Military Academy in 1828. Aa . 
customary with my parents, I was furnished with a 
Bible, with the injunction to read it often, and make it 
the rule of my life. Like most other youths, how. 
I kept it in my trunk; and I blush while I say it. I do 
not believe that during the whole time I was there, tour 
years, I took it out to read more than six times; and 
then, probably, I had a desire to, if I did not ;ictn 
conceal the net from my room-mates around me. How 
strange the aversion to that good Book, and yet how 
general this antipathy in the thoughtless around us! 
I must confess, however, that though my aversion to 
it was Strong, I had a firm belief in its truth. I 
though in such a body Of young men, I could not, but 
now and then, hear an effort ow the pari of one or 
another around me, to convince himself of its untruth, 
yet, I must say, that I never could gel rid of the 
of God in my heart, or of the firm conviction of 
truth of His word. Still, however, I graduated an im- 
penitent sinner; and being let loose from scholar 
restraint, and left to my own guidance, like most other 
youths under the same circumstances, I followed the 
ways of pleasure and worldly gratification. 

"After graduating, in 1832, I went home. But, 
alas, how changed ! My father and brother had both 
gone during my absence, to that bourne from which 
no traveller returns. Their spirits had fled — ii is 
hoped to heaven. I did not see them in their dy 
hours; but their spirits, though gone, still spake. I 
anxiety they both expressed, just 
my account; and in particular tin 1 
reply of my father, to the question asked him. if he 
had any word to serfd to me: < No, only to read my 
wetters/ was his reply. Yes, father, I have n 
those letters, and long shall they be treasured ud IB 



was told of the 
before death, on 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 173 

recollection of thy solicitude. But I must continue 
my narrative. Though the scenes at home, this visit, 
were impressive, yet they did not result in producing 
within me the conviction that I was a sinner. I left 
my home again as impenitent as I had come. This 
time my sister furnished me with a Bible, with the 
prayer written in it, that I i would make it the rule of 
my conduct and the guide of my life.' As before, I 
stowed it away in my trunk ; thence scarcely, if ever 
at all, to come out. Probably for years together, I 
did not so much as look into it, and during all this 
time, except when at home, I was as much a stranger 
to the church, as I was to the Bible. Indeed, what 
is more shameful, in 1836, I, in some unaccountable 
way lost my Bible ; so that, from that time till the 
latter part of the year 1838, or during an interval of 
two years, I was entirely without one : and during 
all this time, besides having no Bible, (I did not 
dream of buying one,) I was so situated, at least for 
much the greater portion of the time, that I could not 
have access to any church. I was serving with the 
army, against the Indians at the South, and every 
one knows how ill calculated an active life in the 
field is to produce serious impressions. Still, I may 
say, during all this time I had the fear of God before 
my eyes ; though not to the extent as to cause me to 
love and serve Him, or to cut off any of my darling 
pleasures. And yet how good the Lord was ! Though 
I went on sinning, day after day, and was often 
thrown into discussion with infidels around me, who 
strove their utmost to argue or laugh me out of what 
they would call my early prejudices, and though I 
indulged in reading infidel productions, Tom Paine's 
work among the number, yet still His Spirit would 
strive with me, and would not give me entirely over to 
my own devices. 

" I returned North in the fall of 1838, and again saw 
my widowed mother ; her who had nurtured me with 
a Christian's care, and who had early instilled into me 
those religious principles and feelings, which, by the 
grace of God, had never been entirely lost to me, and 

15* 



174 THOUGHTS ON 

to which under the same spiritual influence, I must at- 
tribute my having been kept from utterly falling away 
I saw her again, exhibiting as before, the chastening 
influences of the religion she professed. The same 
calm and resigned countenance ; the same sweet smile 
of welcome, still showed the powerful influence of the 
Holy Spirit upon her heart. I thought I could see the 
workings of her feelings in my behalf; and I could not 
but imagine that in every look she gave me, she offer- 
ed up a prayer on my account. 

" I left her for a station North. I may say I went 
away this time with better feelings than I ever did he- 
fore. I had had, by this time, some experience of the 
world, and had already thought of the nothing 
its pleasures; and, besides, the calm, peaceful, and 
happy deportment of my mother, made me anxious to 
become a partaker also of religion I went away with 
the firm determination of at least looking more into the 
Bible, and of thus taking the first step towards making 
myself better. Another sister, this time, on my 
leaving her, presented me with a Testament. This, 
when I got to my station, I read, or attempted to 
read, every evening. I tasked myself to one chapter. 
But a late return from a party, or ball, would cause 
me to defer it till the morning ; and then if the break- 
fast bell should arouse me from my slumbers, I would 
neglect it till the evening. And so, between the par- 
ties and balls, and indolence in the morning, my 
reading of the Testament was very irregular. But 
still, I had a great respect for religion, and admired 
the truths of the gospel. I would always uphold 
good principles of conduct in those around me, and 
would as often reprobate those that were bad. But 
all my ideas of virtue were founded on a wrong basis. 
I believed that it was in the power of every indivi- 
dual, of himself, to do good and eschew evil. And, 
therefore, when I did see good principles in those 
around me, my admiration was upon the individual 
himself and not upon the Holy Spirit which restrained 
him ; and when I saw wickedness in those around 
me, my condemnation, (and my self-righteousness 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 175 

could not make it too strong,) was upon the individual 
and no* upon the sin which impelled him. 

" But still, though I strongly criticised the conduct of 
others, upholding the good and denouncing the bad ; 
yet I felt that I was not a Christian, in the Bible sense 
of the term. I knew this from my utter inability to 
pray. On retiring, I had often attempted to realize 
the overshadowing presence of a God above me ; but 
all was hard, dark, and impenetrable. I could not 
realize the existence of an all merciful Saviour. Dur- 
ing all this time, I regularly attended divine service, at 
least once a day, every Sunday. I was delighted to 
either hear or read a good sermon. But I heard, or 
read it, more with the feelings of a critic than of an 
humble follower of the lowly Jesus, desiring the sin- 
cere milk of the word. And so, whenever the preacher 
expatiated upon the beauties of virtue, though I re- 
ceived pleasure from his discourse, yet I had none of 
the consciousness that virtue was to be followed be- 
cause God had commanded it ; but because it seemed 
to be a necessary element in society ; and, perhaps, 
because its votary reciprocally recommended himself 
to society, by its pursuit. I recollect, in particular, that 
Dr. Chalmers's sermons afforded me great satisfaction. 
But the beautiful imagery in them, as well as his ele- 
gant diction, probably pleased me quite as much as the 
truths he inculcated. 

" Things went on in this way, for nearly a year, 
when at the close of this time, I began to feel myself 
strongly tempted by the evil one, though, at the time, 
I did not attribute it to this unseen spirit. Probably, 
it is better to say, (to use the language I would have 
then used,) I was uneasy, discontented, looked at things 
awry, extracted more of the bitter than the sweet from 
the things and circumstances around me ; or, in other 
words, was extremely miserable. I could experience 
no joy from the things of earth, and of the joys oi 
heaven, I knew nothing. 

" But thanks to a good and righteous God, he was 
pleased to let me into this state, to show me that aL 
my hopes of happiness from earthly things were vain. 



176 THOUGHTS ON 

I was in the act of throwing myself on the settee, 
when I carelessly took up the Bible, which happened 
to be lying near me. The first chapter I opened at, 
was the 1st Epistle general of Peter, chapter 1st. But 
how shall I describe my feelings, the moment I cast 
my eyes upon its pages! My heart was melted into 
deep contrition. I felt the love of God shed abroad in 
my whole being. I was convinced that I had the 
Holy Spirit at work within me. I was affected to 
tears at his goodness. I wept like a child. I felt that 
1 had been a sinner. My ingratitude came like a flood 
upon me. I was overcome with gratitude tor his mer- 
cy. It completely possessed my whole, being. I re- 
joiced in the thought, that though I had hern a wan 
derer from him } yel he was a good and kind Sa 
vionr, and was ready to forgive me all the injuries 
I had done him. I could indeed say, with deep e.»n- 
viction, as I read the passage which presented itself to 
me: 'J3lessed he the Cod and Father of our Lord 
,](sus Christ, which, according to his abundant mercy, 
hath begotten us again unto a lively hope, by the 
resurrection of Jesus Christ, from the dead.' [nd< 
this whole chapter seemed to he perfectly adapted to 
my stale. I recollect, in particular, the eighth verse 
was singularly pleasing to me. * Whom having not 
seen, ye love; in whom though now ye see him not, 
yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and 
full of glory.' 

- Another remarkable circumstance connected with 
this display of divine goodness, was, the wonderful 
acuteness of intellect I felt myself to have, in reading 
the word of God. And not only could I perceive 
things in the gospel that I never saw before, but I 
felt my whole character changed. I felt not only a 
strong love to God, but to every body around me. I 
-mild have wept upon the bosom of my bitterest ene- 
my. Oh! the joys of that moment ! But, alas ! how 
vain and impotent are the attempts of man, unless the 
Holy Spirit of God remains with him. 1 recollect 
very well, that I thought I would go and see the 
minister, and tell him what had passed. But not 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 17" 

acting up to the suggestion immediately, I neglected it, 
and soon again, sad to say, I had relapsed into my for- 
mer forgetfulness of the Lord. The fear of the ridicule 
of the world had been too strong for my faith, and I 
felt, too, that I could not yet give up the world, and de- 
clare myself on the Lord's side. But still he would not 
let me go. He would not give me up. I was removed 
shortly afterwards to another station, and here I can 
see the all gracious design of Providence in this change. 
I was by this means thrown into the society of several 
pious officers. One in particular, whom I valued very 
highly, and who, the very evening he conversed with 
me upon the goodness of God, in twice leading him 
back from signal relapses into sin, was seized with the 
fever, that in five days carried him to his grave, was in 
particular of great service to me, under the divine bless- 
ing, in confirming me in my resolves to renounce the 
world, and cleave unto the Lord ; and so indeed were 
all the others. Suffice it to say, that not many months 
after I came among them, I openly proclaimed myself 
on the Lord's side, and sealed the covenant by partak- 
ing of the emblems of his body and blood. And it is 
an additional source of happiness for me to state, that 
it was not long after, that the partner of my bosom 
also renounced the world, and joined me in the race set 
before us in the gospel. 

" The foregoing narrative, I have thought would be 
of some interest to you. But if it serve no other pur- 
pose than to show you how good the Lord has been to 
me, it will answer its end." 



CHAPTER XII. 

The spiritual conflict. — Satan's Temptations. — Evil thoughts.— A case 
in illustration. 

We have spoken of the Christian's enemies, in the 
general, it is now intended to enter into a more partic 



178 THOUGHTS ON 

ular view of the conflict which is experienced by the 
pilgrim to Zion. Swarms of vain thoughts may be 
reckoned among the first and most constant enemies 
of the servant of God. The mind of man is like a 
fountain which is continually sending forth streams. 
There is nol a moment of our waking time when the 
rational soul is entirely quiescent. How it may be in 
our sleeping hours, this is not the place to inquire — 
as we are not in that state engaged in this war: 
Perhaps, this is saying too much. I believe thai sin 
may be committed In sleep; for there is ohm a deli- 
berate choice of evil, after a struggle betw 
of duty and an inclination to sin. And often the same 
vain and impure thoughts, which were too much in- 
dulged in waking hours, infest us when asleep, and 
may find much readier entertainment than when we 
have all our senses about us. It is difficult indeed, to 
Bay when moral agency is suspended, so as to render 
the person inculpable for his volitions; and many 
know that they consent to temptations in sleep, when 
they abhor the evil as soon as they are awake. And, 
in other cases, inclination is indulged, where ther 
not the least sense of the moral turpitude of the act. 

But, in other cases, persons in sleep consent to sin 
with a clear apprehension of the evil of the thing to 

which they consent. Here, there must be some guilt; 
for, if there was not an evil nature, prone to iniquity, 
such volitions would not take place. Two things are 
in our power, and these we should do: first, to avoid 
evil thoughts and such pampering of the body as has 
a tendency to pollute our dreams; and, secondly, to 
pray to God to preserve us from evil thoughts, even 
in sleep. Particularly, we should pray to be deliv- 
ered from the influence of Satan during our sleeping 
hours. Mr. Andrew Baxter, in his work on the Soul, 
is of opinion that dreams can in no way be accounted 
for, but by the agency of other spirits acting on ours. 
While I do not adopt this theory of dreaming, I am 
inclined to believe, that, some how or other, both 
good and evil spirits have access to our minds in sleep. 
They actually seem to hold conversation with us, and 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 179 

suggest things of which we had never thought before. 
To return from this digression — it may be safely as- 
serted that no human mind, in this world, is free from 
the incursion of vain thoughts. The proportion of 
such thoughts depends on the circumstances of the 
individual, and the degree of spirituality and self- 
government to which he has attained. The question 
very naturally arises here, Is the mere occurrence of 
vain or wicked thoughts sinful ? This is a nice ques- 
tion in casuistry, and should not be answered incon- 
siderate^. It is said in Scripture, " the thought of 
foolishness is sin ;" but by thought, in this place, we 
should probably understand " intention." The wise 
man would teach that sin may be committed in the 
mind without any external act; a doctrine abundantly 
taught in other parts of Holy Writ. Or, we may 
understand it to mean that, when thoughts of evil are 
entertained and cherished in the mind, there is sin. 
But as our thoughts are often entirely involuntary, 
arising from we know not what causes, it cannot be 
that every conception of a thing wrong is itself sinful. 
If I conceive of another person stealing, or murder- 
ing, or committing adultery, if my mind abhors the 
deed, the mind is not thereby polluted. Thoughts 
may not in themselves be sinful, and yet they may 
become so, if they fill and occupy the mind to the 
exclusion of better thoughts. Ideas of present scenes 
and passing transactions, are not, in themselves, sin- 
ful, because necessary, and often required by the 
duties which we have to perform; but if the current 
of these thoughts is so continuous that they leave no 
room for spiritual meditations, they become sinful by 
their excess. Again, as every Christian has set times 
for prayer and other devotional exercises; if the mind, 
on such occasions, wanders off from the contemplation 
of those objects, which should occupy it, such forget- 
i'uiness of God's presence, and vain wandering of the 
thoughts, are evidently sinful. And here is an arena on 
which many a severe conflict has been undergone, 
and where, alas ! many overthrows have been expe- 
rienced by the sincere worshipper of God. How our 



180 THOUGHTS ON 

perfectionists dispose of this matter, and what their 
professed experience is, I know not. I suppose, how 
ever, that they are, at best, no more exempt from 
wandering thoughts than other Christians; and if so. 
they mast practise a double hypocrisy, first, in persuad- 
ing themselves that there is no sin in all this; and, 
secondly, in denying, or concealing from others, their 
real experience on this subject. But is it not true, 
that from the very laws of association of ideas, there 
will often be an involuntary wandering of the thoughts? 
This is admitted ; and it is conceded, also, that it may 
be impossible, in all cases, to determine with precision 
wliieb of our straying thoughts contracts guilt, and h.»w 
much blame attaches to us. wben our tRoughtS Sud- 
denly start aside from tin.' mark like a deceitful bow. 
There are, however, some plain principles which 
sound casuistry can establish. If, when the thoughts 

thus start aside, they are not immediately recalled, 
then there is sin; for the mind has tins power i 
its thoughts, and, when it is not exercised, it arg 
negligence, or something worse. Again, if this devi- 
ation of our thoughts would have been prevented 
by a solemn sense of the divine presence and omni- 
science, then it is sinful ; for such impressions should 
accompany us to the throne 1 of grace. And, finally, 
if the true reason of these erratic trains of thought, 
at such seasons, is owing to a secret aversion to spi- 
ritual things, and a preference, at the moment, to 
some carnal or selfish indulgence — then, indeed, there 
is not only sin, but sin of enormous guilt. It is the 
direct acting of enmity against God. There are many, 
it is to be feared, who take little or no account 
their thoughts; and who, if they run through the 
external round of duties, feel satisfied. Multitudes 
are willing to be religious and even punctilious in 
duty, if no demand is made upon them for fixed i. 
of attention, and fervency and elevation of affection. 
The carnal mind hates nothing so much as a spiritual 
approach to God, and the remainders of this enmity, 
•n the pious, are the very " law in their members, 
vhich wars against the law of the mind." This is 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 181 

the ve«ry core of their inbred sin, from which all evil 
thoughts proceed, on account of which they need tc 
be humbled in the dust, every day that they live. 
There is much reason to fear, however, that many who 
appear to be serious Christians, are not at all in the 
habit of watching their thoughts, and ascertaining the 
evil that is in them. I knew a person, nearly half a 
century ago, who, being greatly troubled with wan- 
dering thoughts in times of devotion, was solicitous 
to know whether any other person was troubled in 
the same way, and to the same degree, with such 
swarms of vain thoughts. He carefully wrote down 
what he experienced in this way, and then took it to 
two serious professors, of whose piety he had a good 
opinion, and, without intimating that it was his own 
experience, inquired whether they were acquainted 
with any thing like this. They both acknowledged 
that they were often interrupted with wandering 
thoughts in prayer ; but, in the degree described in 
the paper, they were not, and could not believe that 
any real Christian was. There may be, and no doubt 
is, a constitutional difference among men in regard to 
this matter. In some minds the links of association 
are so strong, that, when a particular idea is suggested, 
the whole train must come along, and thus the object 
previously before the mind is lost sight of, and will 
not be recovered without a resolute effort. 

An old writer says, "what busy flies were to the 
sacrifices on the altar, such are vain thoughts to our 
holy services; their continued buzzing disturbs the 
mind and distracts its devotion." St. Bernard com- 
plained much of these crowds of vain thoughts. He 
said — " Introeunt et exeunt," they pass and repass, 
come in and go out, and will not be controlled. 
" Amovere voio, nee valeo," I would fain remove 
them, but cannot. This is in perfect accordance with 
Paul's experience, " when I would do good, evil is 
present with me." And Chrysostom says, "that 
-nothing is more dreadful to the godly than sin. This 
is death — this is hell." Therefore, though nothing 
amiss be discerned by man, yet is he afflicted, deeply 

16 



182 THOUGHTS ON 

afflicted on account of his rebellious thoughts, which 
being in the secret closet of the heart, can only appear 
unto God. 

The old writer, before mentioned, introduces a 
struggling soul, mourning on this account. "0 the 
perplexing trouble of my distracting thoughts! How 
do they continually disturb the quiet of my mind, and 
make my holy duties become a weariness of my soul ! 
They cool the heart, they damp the vigour, they 
deaden the comfort of my devotions. Even when I 
pray God to forgive my sins, I then sin whilst I am 
praying for forgiveness; yea, whether it be in the 
church, or in the closet, so frequently and so violently 
do these thoughts withdraw my heart "from God's 
service, that I cannot have confidence he hears my 
suit, because I know by experience, I do not hear 
myself; surely therefore God must need be far off 
from my prayer, whilst my heart is so tar out of his 
presence, hurried away with a crowd of vain imagina- 
tions." To whom he applies the following conso- 
lations: "1. These vain thoughts, being thy burden, 
shall not be thy ruin; and though they do take from 
the sweetness, th-y shall not take from the sincerity 
of thy devotions. 2, It is no litl , which we 

give to God in the acknowledgment oi his omnipres- 
ence and omniscience, that we acknowledge Him tc 
be privy to the first risings of our most inward 
thoughts. 3. It is much the experience of God's 
children, even the devoutest saints, that their thoughts 
of God and of Christ, of heaven and holiness, are very 
unsteady and fleeting. Like the sight of a star through 
an optic glass, held by a palsied hand, such is our 
view of divine objects. 4. Know thou hast the 
gracious mediation of an all-sufficient Saviour to 
supply thy defects, and procure an acceptance of thy 
sincere though imperfect devotions. 5. As thou Inst 
the gracious mediation of an all-sufficient Saviour to 
supply thy defects, so hast thou the strengthening 
power of his Holy Spirit to help thy infirmities $ 
which strength is made perfect in weakness. — When 
thou art emptied it shall fill thee ; when thou art stum 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 183 

bled, it shall raise thee. The experience of God's saints 
will tell thee, that they have long languished under this 
cross of vain thoughts: yet, after long conflict, have 
obtained a joyful conquest, and from mourning doves 
have become mounting eagles/' 

The conflict with vain and wandering thoughts is 
common to all Christians, and is the subject of their 
frequent and deep lamentations: but there are other 
conflicts, which seem to be peculiar to some of God's 
children, or are experienced in a much greater degree 
by some than others. These arise from horribly 
wicked thoughts, blasphemous, atheistical, or abomi- 
nably impure, which are injected with a power which 
the soul cannot resist, and sometimes continue to rise 
in such thick succession, that the mind can scarcely 
be said to be ever entirely free from them. I have 
known persons of consistent piety and sound intellect, 
who have been infested with the continual incursion 
of such thoughts, for weeks and months together : so 
that they had no rest during their waking hours; and 
even their sleep was disturbed with frightful dreams ; 
and whilst thus harassed, they had no composure to 
attend on religious duties ; but when they attempted 
to pray, Satan. was present with his terrific sugges- 
tions ; and when they presented themselves with God's 
people, in his house, they found no comfort there ; for 
the thought was continually introduced into their 
minds, that there was no truth in the Bible, or any of 
its doctrines. And it is wonderful what new and uu- 
thought of forms of blasphemy and infidelity do, in 
such cases, arise ; so that the ideas which occupy their 
minds are often inexpressible, and indeed not fit to be 
expressed, in words. These may emphatically be 
called "the fiery darts of the wicked one." They 
may be compared to balls or brands of fire cast into a 
house full of combustibles. The object of the enemy, 
by such assaults, is, to perplex and harass the child of 
God, and to drive him to despair ; and as many, who 
are thus tempted, are ignorant of Satan's devices, and 
of the "depths" of his subtlety, and charge upon them- 
selves the fault of all these wicked thoughts, the effect 



184 THOUGHTS ON 

aimed at does actually take place. The tempted, 
harassed soul is not only distressed above measure, 
but, for a season, is actually cast down to the borders 
of despair. We know of no affliction, in tins life, 
which is more intolerable than such a state of tempta- 
tion, when continued long. It, no doubt, is true, that 
there are certain states of the physical system which 
favour the effect of these temptations; but this does 
not prove that these thoughts do not proceed from 
Satan. This areh-iiend is deeply versed in the physi- 
ology of human nature: and wherever he discov* 
weak point, there he makes his assault. The melan- 
cholic, and persons wasted and weakened with <\ 
sive grief, are peculiarly susceptible of injury from 
such temptation that class of doubting, mourn- 

ing Christians, who are for ever disposed to look on 
the dark side of the picture; and who are wont 
write bitter things against them- On unin- 

Structed minds, the elfee* often is to induce the belief 
that they have sinned the sin unto death, by blasphem- 
ing the Holy Ghost ; or, thai they have sinned beyond 
the reach of mercy, and that Grod has abandoned them 
to be a prey to sin and Satan. Hut it is not upon igno- 
rant, weak, and diseased persons only that these furious 

assaults art 4 made; BUCh a man as Luther, was m fre- 
quent conflicts of this kind j and he was so persuaded 

that these were the temptations o[ tin? devil, that he 

speaks of his presence with as muchconfid< it' he 

had seen him by his side. 

A friend of the writer, who is yet alive, was for 
months so harassed by these fiery darts of the wic 
one, that I never saw any human being in a more 
pitiable condition of extreme suffering; and although 
there was no intermission, during his waking hours, 
there were seasons when these blasphemous 
tions were injected with peculiar and t< rrifying vio- 
lence. Knowing this person to be discreet, as well as 
pious, I requested, by letter, some account of this 
dreadful state of mind, if there was a freedom to 
make the communication. In answer, I received re 
eently, a letter, from which the following is an ex- 



RELIGIObS EXPERIENCE. 185 

tract: "I feel a singular reluctance to speak of my 
religious experience. I have felt that my case was a 
very remarkable one. I have thought, at times, that 
no one could recount a similar experience. It has 
appeared to me so uncommon, that I have refrained 
from disclosing the peculiar exercises of my mind to 
the most intimate friend. I know not that I ever 
opened to you my case, with the exception of that 
distressing point to which you refer, and even then I 
think I was not very particular. That was a season 
far more distressing than any I ever experienced — 
I well remember mine afflictions and my misery ; the 
wormwood and the gall.' My deliverance from it 
was an unspeakable mercy. I have no doubt that 
the state of my health had some connexion with the 
mental sufferings I then endured. My constitution, 
which had always been feeble, had given to my dis- 
position a proneness to melancholy ; and in my be- 
reaved and desolate state I was peculiarly susceptible 
of gloomy impressions. My nervous system was deep- 
ly affected. Sleep at one time forsook my pillow for 
successive nights. It was under these circumstances 
that I sunk into the darkness and distress which you 
witnessed. In all this there was nothing very remark- 
able. I think very many can record a similar expe- 
rience. It was not the fact that in a feeble state of 
health I was dark and comfortless in spirit, that has 
so much tried me, but the peculiarity of my case 
seemed to consist in the nature of my spiritual con- 
flicts. You may, perhaps, recollect that I stated to 
you that my chief distress arose from blasphemous 
suggestions — unnatural, monstrous, and horrid. 
which seemed to fill my mind, and hurry away m\ 
thoughts, with a force as irresistible as a whirlwind. 
I strove against them — 1 prayed against them ; but it 
was all in vain. The more I strove, the more they 
prevailed. The very effort to banish them appeared 
to detain them. My soul all this while was wrapped 
in midnight darkness, and tossed like the ocean in a 
storm. It seemed to me as if I was delivered over tc 
the powers of darkness, and that to aggravate my 

16* 



186 THOUGHTS ON 

wretchedness, some strange and awfully impious asso- 
ciation would be suggested by almost every object 
triat met my eye. You ask me to describe my delive- 
rance. It was gradual. A return of domestic com- 
forts, a restoration of health, and an occupation op 
the mind with duty, were the means which God 
was pleased to bless to the removal of this distr 
ing experience. For twelve or thirteen years I 1 
had no return of this state of mind, except to a 
tia] extent; yet I have, at times, been greatly hara 
with these fiery darts of the wicked one, which I 

can truly say, are my sorest affliction. I have alv. 
remarked, that these painful exercises of mind i 
attended seasons of special examination and pra 
When I have thought most of my obligation to G 
and endeavoured to meditate most on divine thi 

then it has been, that my mind has suffered most 
from the intrusion of thoughts, at which my B 
filled with anguish, and from which I desire de 
arifce more than from death. Tins fact is mysteri 
to me, I cannot but think I love God. I am sure I 
do desire an entire consecration to Christ. It is my 
daily prayer to attain holiness. I esteem the way of 
salvation glorious; and justification through the alone 
righteousness of Christ is a precious doctrine. But did 
ever any Christian experience such trials, is a question 
which I am ready often to ask. I know of no unin- 
spired writer that has come nearer a description of 
what I have experienced than John Bunyan and John 
Newton. The hymn of the latter, commencing with 
'I asked the Lord that I might grow,' &c., contains 
many thoughts remarkably accordant with my expe- 
rience. 

" You see, I have nothing to relate, that is instruc- 
tive or cheering — and yet I sometimes feel thankful 
for the terrible conflicts which I endure, for there is 
nothing which so constantly drives me to a throne of 
grace — nothing that strips me so entirely of self- 
dependence, and creates within me such longing after 
holiness. I am much inclined to think that Satan is far 
] ess dangerous when he comes as 'a roaring 'ion,' and 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 1M 

frightens the soul with his horrid blasphemies, than 
when <he transforms himself into an angel of light/ 
and seduces our affections gradually and secretly 
away from God, and attaches them sinfully to the 
world. 

" P. S. — The most discouraging fact in all my ex- 
perience has been, what I have already alluded to — 
the rushing in of a tide of unutterably impious thoughts 
or imaginations, at a time when I have sought the 
most elevated and glorious views of God, breaking up 
my peace and comfort, when I have tried to fix my 
mind most intently on spiritual objects. Is the onset 
of the enemy to drive one from a close communion 
with God ? or is it to be traced to a law of association 
recalling past experiences ? 

"If I had more confidence in my religious experi- 
ence I think I could suggest many thoughts that might 
be useful to Christians under temptation ; and espe- 
cially, when suffering under certain physical disor- 
ders. One thing, I am free to say, useful occupa- 
tion is essential to the restoration and peace of some 
minds." 

Many other eminent servants of God have expe- 
rienced, in various forms, the same conflicts with the 
great adversary: and when we describe these temp- 
tations as not unfrequent in the experience of the 
children of God, we do not speak without authority. 
Paul says, "For we wrestle not against flesh and 
blood, but against principalities, against powers, 
against the rulers of the darkness of this world, 
against spiritual wickedness in high places." From 
this passage, it is evident, that our spiritual foes are 
numerous, and powerful, and that the believer's con- 
flict with them is violent : it is a " wrestling," or a 
contention which requires them to put forth all their 
strength, and to exercise all their skill. Therefore, it 
was, that the apostle, who was himself engaged in 
this conflict, urges it upon Christians to put on the 
panoply of God. Against such enemies, armour, 
offensive and defensive, is requisite. And blessed be 
God, there is a magazine, from which such armour 



188 THOUGHTS ON 

may be drawn. Hear Paul's enumeration of the sev- 
eral parts of this panoply: "The girdle of truth, 
the breast-plate of righteousness, — sandals of gospel 
peace, — the shield of faith." This he places Iiil' 1 
as being an indispensable defence against "the fiery 
darts of the wicked" — "the helmet of salvatio 
"the sword of the Spirit, which is the word ot God. w 
To all which must be added prayer and watchful 
ness. As one of God's methods of comforting and 
strengthening his mourning children is by good 
books, I will embrace this opportunity of recommend- 
ing to those engaged in the spiritual warfare, " Gur- 
nall's Christian Armour. 91 In such 
almost a necessity of referring to old autho 
some, how or other, our modern sermons and tr 
touch but seldom on these things, which filled bo many 
of the pages of our fathers. 

The soul struggling with the intrusion of wi< 
thoughts may be supposed to express its feelings in 
language like the following: u O my wretchedly wick- 
ed heart, which is the fountain from which pro. 
such streams of abominable thoughts! Sure if I had 
ever been washed in the fountain of Christ's blood, 
or at all purified by his spun, so foul a corruption 

could never cleave unto my soul. Wo is me I for SO 
far am 1 from being a holy temple of the Lord, that 
my heart rather seems to he the f every un- 

clean bird, and even a den of devils. The flames of 
hell seem to flash in my face, and the amazing ter- 
rors of cursed blasphemies torture my soul and wound 
my conscience even unto death. I would rather 
choose to die ten thousand deaths than undergo the 
fears, and frights, and bitter pangs of my amazing 
thoughts and dreadful imaginations. In every place, 
in every action — in the church and in the closet — in 
my meditations and in my prayers, these abominable 
and tormenting thoughts follow and harass me 
that I loathe myself and am a burden to myself '0 
wretched man, that I am, who shall deliver me from 
the body of this death!' Alas! I perish! whilst 
ashamed to speak what I abhor to think, I must 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 189 

needs despair of a cure, not knowing how to lay open 
my sore." 

To a complaint of this kind, the pious Robert Mos- 
som, addresses the following grounds of consolation : 

1. "The horrid blasphemies which affright thy soul, 
though they are thy thoughts, yet are they Satan's 
suggestions; and not having the consent of thy will, 
they bring no guilt upon thy conscience. It is agree- 
able to the truth of God's word, and the judgment of 
all divines, ancient and modern, that where the will 
yields no consent, there the soul may suffer temptation, 
but act no sin. Again, < The importunity and frequency 
of these suggestions which weary the soul, resisting, 
shall bring a greater crown of glory in its overcoming.' 
True it is, that, 'he that is born of God, keepeth him- 
self, and that wicked one toucheth him not/ But how 
touchethhim not? Is it meant of wicked temptations? 
No, sure, but of wilful transgressions. He toucheth 
him not so as to leave the impress of sin and guilt 
upon the soul. It is no sin to be tempted ; for Christ 
our Lord and Saviour, was tempted, ' but without sin. 
To admit the temptation with allowance or delight, 
that is sin. 

2. "That these foul and frightful suggestions have 
not the consent of thy will appears by this, that thou 
hast a loathing and abhorring of them ; which speaks 
the greatest aversion, and so is far from a consenting 
of the will. What is forcibly cast into the mind can- 
not be said to be received with our consent. It is out 
of our power to prevent Satan from suggesting evil 
thoughts. These arise not from thy own corrupt na- 
ture : they are brats laid at thy door, not thine own 
lawful children. These are the buffetings of Satan. 
Paul had < a messenger of Satan to buffet him,' which 
*vas as a ' thorn in his flesh,' constantly pricking and 
keeping him uneasy, and tempting him to impatience •, 
and he prayed earnestly and repeatedly to be deliv- 
ered from this cross, but his request was not granted ; 
yet he received an answer more gracious and bene- 
ficial than the removal of the thorn would have been; 



190 THOUGHTS ON 

for God said unto him, <Mv erace is sufficient foi 
thee.' " 

The heart assailed by Satan, is like a city besieged, 
within which there lie concealed many traitors, who, 
as far as they dare, will give encouragement and aid to 
the enemy without. And this creates the chief diffi- 
culty in the case of many temptations; Tor although 
there is not a full consent, or a prevailing willingi 
yet there is something which too much concurs with 
the temptation ; except in shocking blasphemies, 
which fill the soul with terror. The soul afflicted 
with these temptations is apt to think its case singu- 
lar. It is ready to exclaim, "Never wereanyofG 
children in this condition. It must be some 
corruption which induces the enemy thus ault 

me, and some awful displeasure of God towards me, 

which makes him permit such a temptation." To 
which it may be replied, "Afflictions, of this kind, 
are no new thing ; and thai with the real children of 
uod. Such ire no! uncommon, in every 

and occur in the pastoral experience of every faithful 
minister. Some persons have, for years, "been so afflic- 
ted with these temptations, thai they have pined a\n 
and have been brought near the L r ;it«-s of death; and 
these, too, persons of no ordinary piety. Take then 
the following directions : l. Learn to discriminate be- 
tween the temptations and the sin of temptation. J. 
Examine with care, what transgressions may have 
occasioned this sore affliction. 3. Humble youn 
before God with fasting and prayer, and snppli 
the throne of grace to obtain the mercy of God 
through the merits of thy Saviour, for the full and 
free pardon of whatever sin has occasioned these 
temptations; beseeching God to rebuke Satan: and 
then make an unreserved resignation of thyself into 
the hands of Jesus, the Great Shepherd of the 
flock, that he may keep thee as a tender land), from 
the paw and teeth of the roaring lion. 4. If still these 
thoughts intrude, turn thy mind quickly away from 
them ; they are most effectually subdued by neglect. 
5. "0 thou afflicted, tossed with tempests and not 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 191 

comforted," do as children with their parents when 
they see any thing frightful : they cling closer and 
hold faster. So do thou with thy God and Saviour. 
Satan's aim is to drive thee from God into some des- 
perate conclusions, or into some ruinous act; but thou 
mayest disappoint this subtle adversary, by running 
to Christ as thy refuge, and cleaving to him with 
numble, believing confidence ; and when Satan sees 
this, he will soon cease from the violence of his temp- 
tations. And when the devil hath left thee, angels 
will come and minister unto thee ; especially the angel 
of the covenant, Christ Jesus. He shall rejoice thy 
soul with the quickening graces and cheering comforts 
of his Spirit. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Growth in grace. — Signs of it. — Practical directions how to grow in 
grace. — Hinderances to it. 

When there is no growth, there is no life. We have 
taken it for granted, that among the regenerate, at 
the moment of their conversion, there is a difference 
in the vigour of the principle of spiritual life, analo- 
gous to what we observe in the natural world ; and 
no doubt the analogy holds, as it relates to growth. As 
some children, who were weak and sickly in the first 
days of their existence, become healthy and strong, 
and greatly outgrow others who commenced life with 
far greater advantages ; so it is with the " new man ;" 
some who enter on the spiritual life with a weak and 
wavering faith, by the blessing of God on a diligent 
use of means, far outstrip others who, in the begin- 
ning, were greatly before them. 

It is often observed, that there are professors who 
never appear to grow, but rather decline perpetually, 
until they become, in spirit and conduct, entirely con- 
formed to the world, from whence they professed to 



192 THOUGHTS ON 

come out. The result, in regard to them, is one of 
*two things; they either retain their standing in the 
Church, and become dead formalists, "having a n 
to live while they arc dead:" " a form of godliu 
while they deny the power thereof; 1 ' or they re- 
nounce their profession and abandon their connexion 

with the Chinch, and openly take their stand with 

enemies of Christ, and not unfrequently go beyond 
them all in daring impiety. Of ail such we may i 
fidently say, "they were not of us, or undoubb 
they would have continued with us." Bui of such 1 
mean not now to speak further, as the case of b 
sliders will be considered herea I 

That growth in grace is gradual and pro 
very ev id at from Scripture; as in all those | 
where believ< rs are exhorted to mortify sin and cru- 
cify the flesh, and to increase and abound iu ail the 
exercises of piety and good works. One texl (^\\ this 
subject will be sufficient: "Grow in grace and in 
knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." 
And this passage furnishes us with information ol 
origin and nature of this growth. It is knowledi 
even the knowlege of our Lord and Saviour J< 
Christ. .Inst so far as any soul mcreases in spiritual 
knowledge, in the same degree it grows in gi 

Persons may advance rapidly in other kinds of know- 
ledge, and yet make no advances in piety; but the 
contrary. They may even have their minds li 
with correct theoretical knowledge of divine truth; 
and yet its effect may not be to humble, but to "puff 
up." Many an accurate and profound theologian 
has lived and died without a ray of saving light. 
The natural man, however gifted with talent, or 
riched with speculative knowledge, has no spiritual 
discernment. After all his acquisitions, he is d( 
tute o( the knowledge of Jesus Christ. But it should 
not be forgotten, that divine illumination is not inde- 
pendent of the word, but accompanies it. Th 
Christians, therefore, who are most diligent in attend- 
ing upon the word in public and private, will be n» 
ikely to make progress in piety. Young converts are 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 193 

^rone to depend too much on joyful frames, and love 
aigh excitement in their devotional exercises ; but 
their heavenly Father cures them of this folly, by 
'eaving them for a season to walk in darkness, and 
struggle with their own corruptions. When most 
sorely pressed and discouraged, however, he strength- 
ens them with might in the inner man. He enables 
them to stand firmly against temptation; or, if they 
slide, he quickly restores them, and by such exercises 
they become much more sensible of their entire de- 
pendence, than they were at first. They learn to be 
in the fear of the Lord all the day long, and to distrust 
entirely their own wisdom and strength, and to rely 
for all needed aid on the grace of Christ Jesus. Such 
a soul will not readily believe that it is growing in 
grace ; but to be emptied of self-dependence, and to 
know that we need aid for every duty, and even for 
every good thought, is an important step in our pro- 
gress in piety. The flowers may have disappeared 
from the plant of grace, and even the leaves may 
have fallen off, and wintry blasts may have shaken it, 
but it now is striking its roots deeper, and becoming 
every day stronger, to endure the rugged storm. One 
circumstance attends the growth of a real Christian, 
in grace, which renders it exceedingly difficult for 
him to know the fact, upon a superficial view of his 
case, and that is, the clearer and deeper insight which 
he obtains into the evils of his own heart. Now this 
is one of the best evidences of growth; but the first 
conclusion is apt to be, " I am growing worse every 
day" — " I see innumerable evils springing up within 
me which I never saw before." This person may be 
compared to one shut up in a dark room, where he is 
surrounded by many loathsome objects. If a single 
ray of light be let into the room, he sees the more 
prominent objects ; but if the light gradually increase, 
he sees more and more of the filth by which he has 
been surrounded. It was there before, but he per- 
ceived it not. His increased knowledge of the fact is 
a sure evidence of increasing light. Hypocrites often 
learn to talk by rote of the wickedness of their hearts; 

17 



194 THOUGHTS ON 

but go to them and seriously accuse them of indulging 
secret piide, or envy, or covetousness, or any other 
heart sins, and they will be offended. Their confes- 
sions of sin are ouly intended to raise them in the 
opinion of others, as truly humble persons; and not 
that any should believe that corruption abounds within 
them. Growth in grace is evinced by a more habitual 
vigilance against besetting sins and temptations, and 
by greater self-denial, in regard to personal indulgence. 
A growing conscientiousness in regard to what may 
be called minor duties, is also a good sign. The 
counterfeit of this is, a scrupulous conscience, which 
sometimes haggles al the most innocent gratificati< 
and has led some to hesitate about taking their daily 
food. Increasing spiritual mindedness is a sure evi- 
dence of progress in piety; and this will always l:e 
accompanied by deadness to the world. Continued 

aspirations to God, in the house and by the way, in 
lying down and rising up, in company and in solitude, 
indicate the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, by wh 
agency all progress in sanctification is made. A vic- 
tory over besetting sins by which the person was 
frequently led away, shows an increased vigour in the 
renewed principle. Increasing solicitude for the sal- 
vation of men, and sorrow on account of their sinful 
and miserable condition, and a disposition tenderly to 
warn sinners o\' their danger, evince a growing St 
of piety. It is also a strong evidence of growth in 
grace, when you can hear injuries and provocations 
with meekness, and when you can from the heart de- 
sire the temporal and eternal welfare of your bitterest 
enemies. An entire and confident reliance on the 
promises and providence of God, however dark may 
be your horizon, or however many difficulties environ 
yon, is a sign that you have learned to live by faith ; 
and humble contentment with your condition, though 
it be one of poverty and obscurity, shows that yon 
have profited by sitting at the feet of Jesus. Diligence 
in the duties of our calling, with a view to th 
of God, is not an evidence to be despised. Indeed. 
there is no surer standard of spiritual growth, tl an ■ 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 195 

habit of aiming at the glory of God in every thing. 
That mind which is steady to the main end, gives as 
good evidence of being touched by divine grace, as 
the tendency of the needle to the pole proves that it 
has been touched by the magnet. Increasing love to 
the brethren is a sure sign of growth; for as brotherly 
love is a proof of the existence of grace, so exercising 
brotherly love is, of vigour in the divine life. This 
love, when pure, is not confined within those limits 
which party spirit circumscribes, but overleaping all 
the barriers of sects and denominations, it embraces 
the disciples of Christ, wherever it finds them. A 
healthy state of piety is always a growing state: that 
child which grows not at all must be sickly. If we 
would enjoy spiritual comfort, we must be in a 
thriving condition. None enjoy the pleasures of 
bodily health, but they who are in health. If we 
would be useful to the Church and the world we must 
be growing Christians. If we would live in daily 
preparation for our change, we must endeavour to 
grow in grace daily. The aged saint, laden with the 
fruits of righteousness, is like a shock of corn fully 
ripe, which is ready for the garner; or like a mature 
fruit, which gradually loosens its hold of the tree, until 
at last it gently falls off. Thus the aged, mature 
Christian, departs in peace. As growth in grace is 
gradual, and the progress from day to day impercep- 
tible, we should aim to do something in this work 
every day. We should u die daily unto sin and live 
unto righteousness." Sometimes the children of God 
grow faster when in the fiery furnace than elsewhere. 
As metals are purified by being cast into the fire, so 
saints have their dross consumed and their evidences 
brightened, by being cast into the furnace of affliction. 
" Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery 
trial which shall try you, as though some strange 
thing happened unto you," but rejoice, because " the 
•.rial of your faith, being much more precious than 
of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire 
shall be found unto praise, and honour, and glory." 



196 THOUGHTS ON 

We shall here present some practical directions h i\v 
to grow in grace, or make progress in piety. 

1. Set it down as a certainty that this object will 
never be attained without vigorous, continued effort; 
and it must not only be desired and sought, but must 
be considered more important than all other pursuits. 
and be pursued in preference to every thing which 
claims your attention. 

2. While you determine to be assiduous in the use 
of the appointed means of sanctification, you must have 
it deeply fixed in your mind, that nothing can be effect 
ted in this work without the aid of the Divine Spirit. 
"Paul may plant and Apolloa water, but it is God 
that giveth the increase. " The direction of the old di- 
vines is good; k use the means ad vigorously as it' you 
were to be saved by your own efforts, and yet trust as 
entirely to the grace of God, as if you made use of no 
means whatever.' 

3. Be much in the perusal of the Holy Scriptui 
and strive to obtain clear and consistent views of the 
plan of redemption. Learn to contemplate the truth 
in its true nature, simply, devoutly, and long at a time, 
that you may receive on your soul the impression 
which it is calculated to make. Avoid curious and ab- 
struse speculations respecting things unrevealed; and 
do not indulge a spirit ni controversy. Many lose 
benefit of the good impression which the truth is calcu- 
lated to make, because they do not view it simply in 
its own nature, but as related to souk; dispute, or as 
bearing on some other point. As when a man would 
receive the genuine impression which a beautiful Laud- 
scape is adapted to make, he must not be turn* 

by minute inquiries respecting the botanical character 
of the plants, the value of the timber, or the fertility 
of the soil ; but he must place his mind in the attil 
of receiving the impression which the combined view 
of the objects before him, will naturally produce on 
the taste. In such cases the effect is not produced by 
any exertion of the intellect; all such active striving 
is unfavourable, except in bringing the mind to its 
proper state When the impression is most perfect, 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 19^ 

we feel as if we were mere passive recipients of the 
effect. To this there is a striking analogy in the way 
in which the mind is impressed with divine truth. It 
is not the critic, the speculative or polemic theologian, 
who is most likely to receive the right impression, but 
the humble, simple-hearted, contemplative Christian. 
It is necessary to study the Scriptures critically, and 
to defend the truth against opposers ; but the most 
learned critic and the most profound theologian must 
learn to sit at the feet of Jesus in the spirit of a 
child, or they are not likely to be edified by their 
studies. 

4. Pray constantly and fervently for the influences 
of the Holy Spirit. No blessing is so particularly and 
emphatically promised in answer to prayer as this; 
and if you would receive this divine gift, to be in you 
as a well of water springing up to everlasting life, 
you must not only pray, but you must watch against 
every thing in your heart or life which has a tendency 
to grieve the Spirit of God. Of what account is it to 
pray, if you indulge evil thoughts and imaginations 
almost without control ; or if you give way to the 
evil passions of anger, envy, pride and avarice, or 
bridle not your tongue from evil speaking? Learn to 
be conscientious ; that is, obey the dictates of your 
conscience uniformly. Many are conscientious in some 
things, and not in others ; they listen to the monitor 
within, when he directs to important duties; but in 
smaller matters, they often disregard the voice of con- 
science, and follow present inclination. Such cannot 
grow in grace. 

5. Take more time for the duties of the closet, and 
for looking into the state of your soul. Redeem an 
hour daily from sleep, if you cannot obtain it other 
wise; and as the soul's concerns are apt to get out 
of order, and more time is needed for thorough sell 
examination, than an hour a day, set apart, not peri 
odically, but as your necessities require, days of fasting 
and humiliation before God. On these occasions, deal 
faithfully with yourself. Be in earnest to search 
out all your secret sins, and to repent of them. Re 

17* 



198 THOUGHTS OW 

new your covenant with God, and form holy resolu- 
tions of amendment m the strength of divine grace 
and if you find upon examination, that you have 
been living in any sinful indulgence, probe the fester- 
ing wound to the core, and confess your fault before 
God, and do not rest until you have had an appli- 
cation of the blood of sprinkling. You need not ask- 
why you do not grow, while there is such an ulcer 
within you. Here, it is to be feared, is the root of 
the evil. Sins indulged are not thoroughly repented 
of and forsaken ; or the conscience has not been purged 
effectually, and tin; wound still festers. "Come to 
the fountain opened for the washing away of sin 
and uncteanness." Bring your case to the great Phy- 
sician. 

6. Cultivate and exercise brotherly love more than 
you have been accustomed to do. Christ is displeased 
with many of his professed followers, because they 
are so cold and indifferent to his members on earth; 
and because they do so little to comfort and encour 
them; and with some, because they are ;i stumbling 
block to the weak (A' the flock; their conversation 
and conduct not being edifying, hut the contrary. 
Perhaps these disciples are poor, and in the lower- 
walks of lite, and therefore you overlook them, as 
beneath you. And thus would you have treated Christ 
himself, had you lived in his time; for he took his 
station among the poor and afflicted; and he will 
resent a neglect of his poor saints with more displea- 
sure than he would of the rich. Perhaps they do not 
belong to your party or sect, and you are only con- 
cerned to build up your own denomination. Remem- 
ber how Christ condescended to treat the sinful woman 
of Samaria, and the poor woman of Canaan, and re- 
member what account he has given of the last judg- 
ment, when he will assume to himself all that has been 
done, or neglected to be done, to his humble followers. 
There should be more Christian conversation and 
friendly intercourse between the followers of Christ. 
In former days, " They that feared the Lord spake 
often one unto another, and the Lord hearkened 



KELiarOtJS KXFEttlEN'CE. 19& 

and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written 
for them that feared the Lord and thought upon hia 
name." 

7. If you are in good earnest to make greater pro- 
gress in piety, you must do more than you have done 
for the promotion of God's glory and of Christ's king- 
dom on earth. You must enter with livelier, deeper 
feeling, into all the plans which the Church has adopt- 
ed to advance these objects. You must give more 
than you have done. It is a shame to think how 
small a portion of their gains some professors devote 
to the Lord. Instead of being a tithe, it is hardly 
equal to the single sheaf of first fruits. If you have 
nothing to give, labour to get something. Sit up at 
night and try to make something, for Christ hath 
need of it. Sell a corner of your land and throw the 
money into the treasury of the Lord. In primitive 
times many sold houses and lands, and laid the whole 
at the Apostles' feet. Do not be afraid of making 
yourselves poor by giving to the Lord, or to his poor. 
His word is better than any bond, and he says, " I 
will repay it." Cast your bread on the waters, and 
after many days you will find it again. Send the 
Bible — send missionaries — send tracts to the perishing 
heathen. 

8. Practise self-denial every day. Lay a wholesome 
restraint upon your appetites. Be not conformed to 
this world. Let your dress, your house, your furni- 
ture, be plain and simple, as becometh a Christian. 
Avoid vain parade and show in every thing. Govern 
your family with discretion. Forgive and pray for 
your enemies. Have little to do with party politics. 
Carry on your business on sober, judicious principles. 
Keep clear of speculation and suretiships. Live peace- 
ably with all men as much as in you lies. Be much 
in ejaculatory prayer. Keep your heart with all 
diligence. Try to turn to spiritual profit every 
event which occurs; and be fervently thankful for 
all mercies. 

9. For your more rapid growth in grace, some of 
you will be cast into the furnace of affliction. Sick 



200 THOUGHTS ON 

ness, bereavement, bad conduct of children and rela- 
tives, loss of property, or of reputation, may come 
upon you unexpectedly, and press heavily on you. 
In these trying circumstances, exercise patience and 
fortitude. Be more solicitous to have the affliction 
sanctified, than removed. Glorify God while in the 
fire of adversity. That faith which is most tried, is 
commonly most pure, and precious. Learn from Christ 
how you ought to suffer. Let perfect Bubohission to 
the will of God be aimed at. Never indulge a mur- 
muring or discontented spirit. Repose with confidence 
on the promises. Commit all your cares to God. 
Make known your requests to him by prayer and 

supplication. Lei go your too i .rasp o\ the 

world. Become familiar with death and the gi 
Wait patiently until your change cometh; but d< 
not to live a day longer than may be tor the glory of 
God. 

If we are on tin 4 watch we often may find irood 

things when they were least expeeU-d. It is seldom 

that I consult an almanac for any purpose, but wish- 
ing, the- other day, to see when the moon would cha 
I opened the calendar at the current mouth, and the 
first thing which struck' my eye was the heading of a 
paragraph in the very words which I had selected as 
the subject o\ this essay — u Hmderances to Growth 
in Grace." Of course I perused the short paragraph, 
and I was so well pleased with what I read, that I 
resolved to take it lor my text — and here it is, word 
for word : 

" The influence of worldly relatives and compan- 
ions — embarking too deeply in business — approxima- 
tions to fraud for the sake of gain — devoting too much 
time to amusements — immoderate attachment to a 
worldly object — attendance on an unbelieving or un- 
faithful ministry — languid and formal observance of 
religious duties — shunning the society and religious 
converse of Christian friends — relapse into known sin — 
oversight and of course non-improvement of graces 
already attained." 

Now, all this is very good and very true ; the only 



5 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 20] 

objection is, that several of the particulars mentioned 
should rather be considered as the effects of a real 
declension in religion than the mere binderances to 
growth; although it is true, that nothing so effectually 
hinders our progress as an actual state of backsliding. 
It seems desirable to ascertain, as precisely as we can, 
the reasons why Christians commonly are of so diminu- 
tive a stature and of such feeble strength in their reli- 
gion. When persons are truly converted they always 
are sincerely desirous to make rapid progress in piety ; 
and there are not, wanting exceeding great and gra- 
cious promises of aid to encourage them to go for- 
ward with alacrity. Why then is so little advance- 
ment made ? Are there not some practical mistakes 
t r ery commonly entertained, which are the cause of 
this slowness of growth? I think there are, and will 
endeavour to specify some of them. And first, there 
is a defect in our belief of the freeness of divine grace. 
To exercise unshaken confidence in the doctrine of 
gratuitous pardon is one of the most difficult things in 
the world ; and to preach this doctrine fully without 
verging towards antinomianism is no easy task, and 
is therefore seldom done. But Christians cannot but 
be lean and feeble when deprived of the proper nutri- 
ment. It is by faith, that the spiritual life is made to 
grow ; and the doctrine of free grace, without any 
mixture of human merit, is the only true object of 
faith. Christians are too much inclined to depend 
on themselves, and not to derive their life entirely 
from Christ. There is a spurious legal religion, 
which may flourish without the practical belief in 
the absolute freeness of divine grace, but it pos- 
sesses none of the characteristics of the Christian's 
life. It is found to exist in the rankest growth, 
in systems of religion which are utterly false. But 
ven when the true doctrine is acknowledged, in 
theory, often it is not practically felt and acted on. 
The new convert lives upon his frames, rather than 
on Christ ; and the older Christian still is found 
struggling in his own strength ; and failing in his 
expectations of success, he becomes discouraged fimt. 



202 THOUGHTS ON 

and then he sinks into a gloomy despondency, or 
becomes, in a measure, careless ; and then the spirit 
of the world comes in with resistless force. Here, I 
am persuaded, is the root of the evil; and, until reli- 
gious teachers inculcate clearly, fully, and practically, 
the grace of God as manifested in the gospel, we shall 
have no vigorous growth of piety among professing 
Christians. We must be, as it were, identified with 
Christ — crucified with him, and living by him, and in 
him by faith, or rather have Christ living in us. The 
covenant of grace must be more clearly and repeat- 
edly expounded in all its rich plenitude oi mercy, and 
in all its absolute freeness. 

Another tiling which prevents growth in grace, is, 
that Christians do not make their obedience to Christ 
comprehend every other object of pursuit. Their 
religion is too much a separate thing, and they pursue 
their worldly business in another spirit. They try to 
unite the service of God and Mammon. Their minds 
are divided, and often distracted with earthly cares 
and desires, which interfere with the service oi God; 
whereas they should have but one object oi pursuit, 
and all that they do and seek, should be in subordina- 
tion to this. Every thing should be done for God 
and to God; whether they eat or drink, they should 
do all to his glory. As the ploughing and sowing of 
the wicked is sin, because done without regard to 
God and his glory ; so the secular employments and 
pursuits of the pious should all be consecrated, and 
become a part of their religion. Thus they would 
serve God in the field and in the shop, in buying and 
selling, and getting gain — all would be for God. Thus 
their eartmy labours would prove no hinderance to 
their progress in piety ; and possessing an undivided 
mind, having a single object of pursuit, they could 
not but grow in grace, daily. He whose eye is single 
shall have his whole body full of light. 

Again, another powerful cause of hinderance in 
the growth of the life of God in the soul, is, that we 
make general resolutions of improvement, but neglect 
to extend our efforts to particulars; and we promise 



RELTGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 203 

ourselves that in the indefinite future, we will do 
much in the way of reformation, but are found doing 
nothing each day in cultivating piety. We begin and 
end our days without aiming or expecting to make 
any particular advance on that day. Thus our best 
resolutions evaporate without effect. We merely 
run the round of prescribed duty, satisfied if we do 
nothing amiss, and neglect no external service which 
we feel to be obligatory. We resemble the man who 
purposes to go to a certain place, and often resolves 
with earnestness that he will some day perform the 
journey, but never takes a step towards the place. Is 
it at all strange that that person who on no day makes 
it his distinct object to advance in the divine life, at 
the end of months and years is found stationary? The 
natural body will grow without our thinking about it, 
even when we are asleep, but not the life of piety, 
which only increases by, and through the exercises of 
the mind, aiming at higher measures of grace. And, 
as every day we should do something in this good 
work, so we should direct our attention to the growth 
of particular graces; especially of those in which we 
know ourselves to be defective. Are we weak in 
faith? let us give attention to the proper means of 
strengthening our faith; and, above all, apply to the 
Lord to increase our faith. Is our love to God cold 
and hardly perceptible, and greatly interrupted by 
long intervals in which God and Christ are not in all 
our thoughts? let us have this for a daily lamentation 
at the throne of grace — let us resolve to meditate more 
on the excellency of the divine attributes, and espe- 
cially on the love of God to us — let us be much in 
reading the account of Christ's sufferings and death, 
and be importunate in prayer, until we receive more 
copious effusions of the Holy Spirit; for the fruit of 
the Spirit is love, and the love of God is shed abroad 
in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto 
us. And so we should directly aim at cultivating 
and increasing every grace ; for the divine life, or 
"new man," consists of these graces, and* the whole 



204 THOUGHTS ON 

cannot be in health and vigour, while the constituent 
parts are feeble and in a state of decay. The same 
remarks are applicable to the mortification of sin; we 
are prone to view our depravity too much in the 
general, and under this view to repent of it, and hum- 
ble ourselves on account of it; whereas, in order to 
make any considerable progress in this part of sancti 
ncatiou, we must deal with our sins in detail. We 
mu*t have it as a special object, to eradicate pride and 
vain glory, covetousness, indolence, envy, discontent, 
anger, &c. There should be appropriate means used, 
suited to the extirpation of each particular vice of the 
mind. It is true, indeed, that if we water the root we 
may expect the branches to flourish; if we invigorate 
the principle oi' piety, the several Christian virtues 
will flourish; hut a skilful gardener will pay due 
attention both to the root and the branches; and, in 
fact, the.se graces of the heart are parts of the root, 
and it is by Strengthening these, that we do invigo- 
rate the root. The same is true, as it relates to the 
remaining principle of sin : we must strike our blows 
chiefly at the root of the evil tree; but those inherent 
vices which were mentioned, and others, should he 
considered as belonging to the 1 root, and when we aim 
at their destruction particularly, and in detail, our 
strokes will be most effectual. 

I shall mention, at present, but one other cause of 
the slow growth of believers in piety, and that is the 
neglect of improving in the knowledge of divine 
tilings. As spiritual knowledge is the foundation of 
all genuine exercises of religion, so growth in religion 
is intimately connected with divine knowledge. Men 
may possess unsanctified knowledge and be nothing 
the better for it ; but they cannot grow in grace with- 
out increasing in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus 
Christ. " Being, " says Paul, "fruitful in every gooc 
work, and increasing in the knowledge of God." 
46 Grow in grace," says Peter, "and in the knowledge 
of our Lord Jesus Christ." Mr. Edwards remarks 
that the more faithful he was in studying the Bible, 






I 

RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 205 

ihe more he prospered in spiritual things. The reason 
is plain, and other Christians will find the same to be 
true. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Backsliding.— The Backslider restored 

There is a perpetual, and there is a temporary back- 
sliding. The first is the case of those who, being par- 
tially awakened and enlightened by the word accom- 
panied by the common operations of the Spirit, make 
a profession of religion, and, for a while, seem to run 
well, and to outstrip the humble believer in zeal and 
nctivity; but having no root in themselves, in the 
time of temptation, fall totally away, and not only 
relinquish their profession, but frequently renounce 
Christianity itself, and become the bitterest enemies 
of religion. Or, seduced by the pride of their own 
hearts, they forsake the true doctrines of the gospel, 
and fall in love with some flattering, flesh-pleasing 
form of heresy; and spend their time in zealous efforts 
to overthrow that very truth, which they once pro 
fessed to prize. Or, thirdly, they are overcome by 
some insidious lust or passion, and fall into the habit- 
ual practice of some sin, which at first they secretly 
indulge, but after a while cast off all disguise, and 
show to all that they are enslaved by so-nie hurtful 
and hateful iniquity. Persons who thus apostatize 
from the profession and belief of Christianity, or who 
fall into a habitual course of sinning, are commonly 
in the most hopeless condition of all who live in the 
midst of the means of grace. When they openly reject 
Christianity, their infidelity is commonly accompanied 
by contempt and a malign temper, which often prompts 
them to blasphemy; and they are, according to our ap- 
prehension, in great danger of committing the unpar- 
donable sin ; and «ome who in these circumstances 

IS 



206 THOUGHTS ON 

are actuated by inveterate hatred to the truth, ana 
who make use of their tongues to express the feelings 
of enmity which rankle in them, do often fall into 
this unpardonable sin. The case of such seems to be 
described by Paul, in the sixth chapter of his Epistle 
to the Hebrews. "For it is impossible for those who 
were once enlightened, and have tasted of the heavenly 
gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, 
and have tasted the good word of God and the pow- 
ers of the world to come, if they shall fall away, to 
renew them again to repentance, seeing they crucify 
to themselves the Son of God afresh and put him to 
an open shame." Sonic suppose that the Apostle 
here describes the character of the true Christian, 
and that he merely supposes the case, if such should 
fall away, what would be the fearful consequence; 
but this seems to us a forced construction. It seems 
more reasonable to believe that he is describing a 
case which may, and often does occur, and that the 
description applies to such professors as had received 
the miraculous endowments of the Holy Spirit, and 
yet apostatized: and by crucifying the Son of God 
afresh he probably alludes to tin; manner in which 
those who went hack to the .lews, were required 
to execrate the name d[ Christ in tin; Synagogues, 
and to profess that he deserved to be crucified as he 
had been, and thus put him to an open shame, lint 
whether such apostates do actually commit the un- 
pardonable sin or not, seems in most cases to be of 
little consequence, for they commonly die in their sins, 
and all sin unrepented of is unpardonable. In some 
cases, however, apostates stop short of infidelity and 
blasphemy, and while they stand aloof from religion, 
content themselves with decency, and do not treat 
religion with disrespect; yet it will be found on exam- 
ination, that the hearts of such are extremely callous, 
and their consciences are seared as with a hot iron. 
The Spirit of God, evidently has left them, and 
strives no more with them; and they often die as they 
have lived, fearfully insensible, having " no bands 
in their death." But sometimes conscience is let 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 207 

loose upon them in their last hours, and they are left 
to die in the horrors of despair. In the days of the 
apostles, they seem to have had some way of know 
ing when a man had committed "the sin unto death. " 
and for such, Christians were not to pray, as their 
destiny was irretrievably fixed; but such knowledge 
cannot be possessed now, and we may therefore 
pray for all, as long as they are in the place of repent- 
ance. 

But when we speak of backsliding, we commonly 
mean those sad departures of real Christians from 
God, which are so common, and often so injurious to 
the cause of religion. These cases are so common, 
that some have thought that all Christians have their 
seasons of backsliding ; when they left their first love, 
and lost the sweet relish of divine things, and were 
excluded from intimate communion with God. But, 
however common backsliding may have been among 
Christians, there is no foundation for the opinion, 
that it is common to all ; we find no such declension 
in the experience of Paul or John ; and in the bio- 
graphies of some modern saints we find no such sad 
declension. We could refer to many recorded ac- 
counts of personal experience, but it will be sufficient 
to mention Mr. Baxter, Col. Gardiner, G. Whitfield, 
and Mr. Brainerd. No doubt all experience short 
seasons of comparative coldness and insensibility, and 
they who live near to God have not always equal light, 
and life, and comfort, in the divine life. Those fluctu- 
ations of feeling, which are so common, are not included 
in the idea of a state of backsliding. This occurs when 
the Christian is gradually led off from close walking 
with God, loses the lively sense of divine things, be- 
comes too much attached to the world and too much 
occupied with secular concerns ; until at length the 
keeping of the heart is neglected, closet duties are 
omitted or slightly performed, zeal for the advance- 
ment of religion is quenched, and many things once 
rejected by a sensitive conscience, are now indulged 
and defended. 

All this may take place, and continue long before 



208 THOUGHTS ON 

the person is aware of his danger, or acknowledges 
that there has been any serious departure from God. 
The forms of religion may be still kept np t and open 
sin avoided. But more commonly backsliders fall 
into some evil habits; they are evidently too much 
conformed to the world, and often go too far in par- 
ticipating in the pleasures and amusements of the 
world; and too often there is an indulgence in known 
sin, into which they are gradually led, and m\ account 
of which they experience frequent compunction, and 
make solemn resolutions to avoid it in future; hut 
when the hour of temptation comes, they are over- 
come again and again, and thus they live a miserable 
life, enslaved by some sin. over which, though they 
sometimes struggle hard, they cannot L r et the victory. 
There is in nature no more inconsistent thing than a 
backsliding Christian. Looking at one side of his 
character, he seems to have sincere, penitential feel- 
ings, and his heart to he righl in its purposes and 
aims; hut look at the other side, and he seems to he 
" carnal, sold under sin." wretched man! how lie 
writhes often in anguish, and groans for deliverance, 
hut he is like Sampson shorn of his lock's, his strength 
is departed, and he is not able to rise and no forth, at 
liberty, as in former times. All backsliders are not 
alike. Some are asleep; hut the one nowdescrihed is 
in a state o( almost perpetual conflict, which keeps 
him wide awake. Sometimes when his pious feelings 
are lively, he cannot but hope that lie loves God and 
hates sin, and is encouraged : hut oh, when sin pre- 
vails against him, and he is led away captive, he can- 
not think that he is a true Christian. Is it possible 
that one who is thus overcome, can have in him any 
principle of piety? Sometimes he gives up all hope, 
and concludes, that he was deceived in ever thinking 
himself converted; but then again, when he feels a 
broken and contrite heart, and an ardent breathing 
and groaning after deliverance, he cannot but con- 
clude, that there is some principle above mere nature, 
operating with him. 

The sleeping backslider is one who, by being sur 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 209 

rounded with earthly comforts, and engaged in secular 
pursuits, and mingling much with the decent and re- 
spectable people of the world, by degrees, loses the 
deep impression of divine and eternal things ; his 
spiritual senses become obtuse, and he has no longer 
the views and feelings of one awake to the reality of 
spiritual things. His case nearly resembles that of 
a man gradually sinking into sleep. Still he sees dimly, 
and hears indistinctly, but he is fast losing the impres- 
sion of the objects of the spiritual world, and sinking 
under the impression of the things of time and sense. 
There may be no remarkable change in the external 
conduct of such a person ; except that he has no longer 
any relish for religious conversation, and rather is dis- 
posed to waive it. And the difference between such 
an one, and the rest of the world, becomes less and less 
distinguishable. From any thing you see or hear, you 
would not suspect him to be a professor of religion, 
until you see him taking his seat at the Lord's table. 
Such backsliders are commonly awakened by some 
severe judgments; the earthly objects on which they 
had too much fixed their affections are snatched 
away ; and they are made bitterly to feel that it 
is an evil thing to forget and depart from the living 
God. 

There is still another species of backsliding, where 
by a sudden temptation, one who appeared to stand 
firm, is cast down. Such was the fall of Peter, and 
many others have given full evidence that a man's 
standing is not in himself; for frequently men are 
overcome in those very things in which they were 
least afraid, and had most confidence in their own 
strength. These cases are usually more disgraceful 
than other instances of backsliding, but they are less 
dangerous ; for, commonly, where there is grace they 
produce such an overwhelming conviction of sin, and 
shame for having acted so unworthily, that repentance 
soon follows the lapse, and the -person, when restored, 
s more watchful than ever against all kinds of sin, 
and more distrustful of himself Such falls may be 
compared to a sudden accident by which a bone is 

18* 



210 THOUGHTS ON 

broken, or put out of joint, they are very painful, and 
cause the person to go limping all the remainder of 
his life, but do not so much affect the vitals, as more 
secret and insidious diseases, which prey inwardly 
without being perceived. 

There are many persons, who never made a pub 
lie profession of religion, who for a while, are the 
subjects of serious impressions, whose consciences 
are much awake, and whose feelings are tender. 
They seem to love to hear the truth, and in a con- 
siderable degree fall under its influence, so as to be 
almost persuaded to be Christians; and for a season 

to the pioUS, lively hopes of their speedy conver- 
ts They are such as the person to whom Christ 
said, u thou art not far from the kingdom of God." 
Hut through the blinding influence ^( avarice or am- 
bition, or some other carnal motive, they are led 
away and lose all their serious thoughts and good 
resolutions. Such persons usually lose their day of 
grace. I have seen an amiable young man, weeping 
under the faithful preaching of the gospel, and my 
hop< sanguine, thai 1 should soon see him at the 

table of the Lord; but alas! I believe that, on that 
very day, he quenched the Spirit, and has been going 
further and further from the Lord ever since ! 

The backsliding believer can only be distinguished 
from the final apostate by the fact of bis recovery; at 
least, when Christians have siidden far back, no satis- 
factory evidence of th< i genuineness of their piety can 
be exhibited; nor can they have any which ought to 
satisfy their own minds. In the course of pastoral 
visitation I once called upon a habitual drunkard 
who had been a flaming professor. I asked him 
what he thought of his former exercises of religion. 
He said, that he was confident that they were genu- 
ine ; and expressed a strong confidence that the Lord 
would recover him from his backsliding state. Now 
here was the very spirk of Antinomianism. Whether 
he was ever recovered from his besetting sin, I cannot 
tell ; but I rather think that he continued his intem- 
perate habits to the very last. I have often remarked 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 211 

how tenaciously the most profane and obstinate sin- 
ners will cleave to the hope of having been once con- 
verted, if they have ever been the subjects of religious 
impressions. One of the profanest men I ever heard 
speak, and one of the most outrageous drunkards, 
when asked on his death-bed, to which he was brought 
by intemperance, respecting his prospects beyond the 
grave, said, that when a very young man, he had 
been among the Methodists, and thought that he was 
converted; and though he had lived in the most 
open and daring wickedness for more than twenty 
years since that time, yet he seemed to depend on 
those early exercises. Miserable delusion ! But a 
drowning man will catch at a straw. An old sea-cap- 
tain, whom I visited on his death-bed, seemed to be 
trusting to a similar delusion. He related to me cer- 
tain religious exercises which he had when he first 
went to sea, but of which he had no return ever 
since, though half a century had elapsed. I have 
met with few persons who had neglected to cherish 
and improve early impressions, who were ever after- 
wards hopefully converted. They are generally given 
up to blindness of mind and hardness of heart. But 
some of these are sometimes brought in, in times of 
revival ; or, at a late period, driven to the gospel 
refuge, by severe affliction. The conviction of a Chris- 
tian backslider is often more severe and overwhelm- 
ing than when first awakened. When his eyes are 
opened to see the ingratitude and wicked rebellion 
of his conduct, he is ready to despair, and to give 
up all hopes of being pardoned. He sinks into deep 
waters where the billows of divine displeasure roll 
over him ; or he is like a prisoner, in a horrible pit, 
and in the miry clay. All around him is dark and 
desolate, and he feels himself to be in a deplorably 
helpless condition. His own strivings seem to sink 
him deeper in the mire ; but, as his last and only re- 
source, he cries, out of the depths, unto God. As his 
case is urgent he cries with unceasing importunitv, 
and the Lord hears the voice of his supplications, and 
Srings him up out of the horrible pit, and places his 






212 THOUGHTS ON 



feet upon a rock, and establishes his goings, and puts 
a new song into his mouth, even of praise to the Re- 
deemer. The freeness of pardon to the returning 
backslider is a thing which is hard to be believed, 
until it is experienced. No sooner is the proud heart 
humbled, and the hard heart broken into contrition, 
than Jehovah is near with his healing balm. To heal 
the broken in heart, and to revive the spirit of the 
contrite ones, is the delight of Immanuel. And he re- 
ceives the returning penitent without reproaches. He 
pardons him freely, and sheds abroad his love in his 
heart, and fills him with the joy of the Holy Ghost, 
It is, in fact, anew conversion; though there is but one regen- 
eration. We never hear of a sinner bemu r born a 
third lime — but we remember that Christ said unto 
Peter, " when thou art converted, strengthen thy 
brethren." Indeed, the exercises of the soul on these 
occasions may be so much more clear and comfortable 
than on its first conversion, that the person is dis- 
posed to think that this is the real commencement 
of spiritual life, and to set down all his former expe- 
rience as spurious; or, at least, essentially defective. 
Christians, when recovered from backsliding, are com- 
monly more watchful, and walk more circumspectly 
than they ever did before. They cannot but be more 
humble. The remembrance of their base departure 
from God fills them with self-loathing. Whenever 
spiritual pride would lift up its head, one thought of 
a disgraceful fall will often lay the soul in the dust. 
And whether the backslider's sins have been open 
or secret, the recollection of his traitorous behaviour 
fills him with shame and self-abhorrence. When such 
persons have so conducted themselves as to bring 
upon them the censures of the church, so as to be 
separated from the communion of his people, at i\\si. 
it is probable, resentment will be felt towards the 
officers of the church who perform this painful duty: 
but after reflection, these resentments are turned 
against themselves, and they pass much heavier cen- 
sures on themselves than the church ever did. Judi- 
cious, seasonable discipline is a powerful means of 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 213 

grace, and often would be the effectual meaivs of re- 
covering the backslider, if exercised as it should be. 
Indeed, this may be said to be one main design of its 
appointment. If whenever there is an appearance of 
declension in a church member, the pastor, or some 
other officer of the church, would go to the person, 
and, in the spirit, and by the authority of Christ, 
would address a serious admonition to him, and then 
a second, and a third, and if these were unheeded, 
then to bring him before the church, backsliding, in 
most cases, would be arrested before it proceeded far. 
But every member of the church has a duty to per- 
form towards erring brethren. When they see them 
going astray, they should not act towards them as if 
they hated them, but should in any wise rebuke them. 
Christian reproof from one Christian to another seems 
to be almost banished from our churches. There is a 
quick eye to discern a brother's faults, and a ready 
tongue to speak of them to others; but where do we 
now find the faithful reprover of sin, who goes to the 
man himself, without saying a word to any one, and 
between themselves, faithfully warns, exhorts, and 
entreats a straying brother to return. The serious 
discipline of formal accusations, and witnesses, &c, by 
such a course would be, in a great measure, rendered 
unnecessary; but the practice is, to let the evil grow 
until it has become inveterate, and breaks out into 
overt acts, and then there is a necessity to pay atten- 
tion to the matter, and to put in force the discipline of 
the church. But even this often proves salutary, and 
is a powerful means of reclaiming the offender ; or, if 
he persists in his evil courses, it serves to separate an 
unworthy member from the communion of saints. 
But when church officers and private Christians ut- 
terly fail in their duty towards backsliding brethren, 
God himself often makes use of means of his own, 
which do not require the intervention of men. He 
smites the offender with his rod, and causes him to 
smart in some tender part. He sends such afflictions 
as bring his sins forcibly before his conscience. He 
deprives him of the objects for the sake of which he 



214 THOUGHTS ON 

forsook the Lord. — It may be the wife of his youth, 
or a beloved child, on which his affections were too 
fondly fixed, so as to become idolatrous. Or, if it was 
the love of the world which was the seductive cause 
of his backsliding, riches are eaused to "make to 
themselves wings and flee away like the eagle to 
heaven." Or, was the love of ease and indulgence 
of the sensual appetites the cause of his delinquency, 
the stroke falls on his own body. He is brought low 
by sickness, and is tried upon his bed with excru- 
ciating pains, until he cries out in his distress, and 
humbly confesses his sins. Or, if he was carried 
away by an undue' love of the honour that cometh 
from men, it is not unlikely that his reputation, which 
he cherished with a fondness winch caused him to 
neglect the honour of Ins God, will b<' permitted to be 
tarnished by the tongue of slander, and things may 
be so situated, that although innocent, he may not 
have it in his power to make the truth appear. 
Children, loo much indulged, become, by their mis- 
conduct, fruitful causes of affliction to parents; and 
thus they are made to sutler m the very point where 
they had sinned. Look at the ease of Eli and of 

David. All afflictions, however, are not for chastise- 
ment, but sometimes for trial; and those whom Cod 
loves best are most afflicted in this world. They are 
kept in the furnace, and that heated seven times, until 
their dross is consumed, and their piety shines forth 
as pure gold, which has been tried in the fire, But 
we are now concerned only with those afflictions 
which are most etfective to bring back the backslider; 
the virtue of which the Psalmist acknowledges when 
he says, " It is good for me to be afflicted, for before 
1 was afflicted I went astray." It may be truly said, 
that many who had backslidden, never would have 
returned had it not been for the rod; other means 
seemed to have lost their power, but this comes home 
to the feelings of every one. Whether a believer is 
ever permitted to go out of the world in a backslid- 
den state, is a question of no practical importance; 
but it seems probable that Christians die in all condi- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 215 

nons in which any of this character are ever found. 
No one has any right to presume, that if he backslides, 
death may not overtake him in that unprepared con- 
dition. Backsliding then is a fearful evil; may we all 
be enabled to avoid it; or if fallen into it, to be re- 
covered speedily from so dangerous a state ! 



CHAPTER XV. 

The rich man and the poor. — The various trials of believers. 

They are not the happy whom the blinded world 
think to be such. The man of successful enterprise, 
and increasing wealth had some enjoyment while 
busily occupied in making a fortune; but now when 
he has arrived at a higher pitch of wealth than hi§ 
most sanguine hopes had anticipated, he is far from 
being happy, or even contented. The desire of ac- 
quisition has grown into an inveterate habit, and he 
cannot stop in his career; he must find out some new 
enterprise ; he must engage in some new speculation ; 
and before all is over, it is well if he loses not all he 
had gained ; and being accustomed to live high, he is 
unprepared to meet poverty ; and to preserve his 
family from such a mortifying change of circum- 
stances, he contrives ways and means to defraud his 
creditors. This man is not happy in his prosperity, 
and under a reverse of fortune, he is truly miserable. 
He has put away a good conscience, which is the 
most essential ingredient in that peace which Christ 
gives to his disciples. His reputation too, if not tar- 
nished, remains under a dark cloud of suspicion, 
which never can be removed. Abroad, he meets 
with neglect and sometimes contempt, from those on 
whom he once looked down ; at home he has before 
him the sad spectacle of a family degraded from their 
former rank, and under all the feelings of mortified 



216 THOUGHTS ON 

pride, struggling to conceal their poverty from the 
gaze and contempt of an unpitying world. But ever 
if no reverse is experienced, and the man continues re 
be successful in all his enterprises; and if at the close, 
of his career, he can calculate millions, in the hank'. 
or in real estate; his only remaining difficulty is, 
how to dispose of such a mass of wealth, lie has 
a son, it is true, hut he is a base profligate, and in a 
single year, would, by reckless speculation, or at the 
gaming table, dissipate the whole winch has hen 
so carefully hoarded up And yet this man could 
scarcely he induced to give a dollar to any benevo- 
lent object, lest h" should lessen the amount which he 
was by every means raking together, tor this unwor- 
thy son. He has daughters, too, whose husbands in 
selecting them had more respect to their fortunes, than 
to any personal qualifications, and these are impatient, 
that the oid man should live so long, and hold the 
purse-strings with so close a grip. Though they will 
gb through all the ceremonial of deep grief, and mourn 
as decently, and as long as fashion requires; yet no 
event is heard with more heart-fell pleasure, than that 
their aged relative is at last obliged to give up all Ins 
possessions. 

Are the rich happy? not such as have been de- 
scribed, lint there are a favoured few who semi 
to have learned the secret of using wealth so as 
do much good, and to derive from it much enjoy- 
ment. They are desirous of making increase too, hut 
it is all for the Lord ; not to be hoarded, until they are 
obliged to leave it, and then to be distributed among 
benevolent societies. No; they are continually con- 
triving methods of making it produce good, now. 
They are parsimonious to themselves, that they n 
he liberal to the poor; and may be able to enrich the 
treasury of the Lord. Such men are blessed, in then 
deed; and though unostentatious in their charities, 
their light cannot be hid. A few rich men of this 
description have lived in England, and even our new 
country records with gratitude, the names of a few 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 217 

benefactors of the public ; and we trust in God that 
the number will be multiplied. Reader, go and do 
likewise. 

But, more commonly, the elect of God are not called 
to glorify him in this way. Wealth is a dangerous 
talent, and is very apt so to block up the way to 
heaven, that they who do press in, have, as it were, 
to squeeze through a gate as difficult of entrance as 
the eye of a needle to a camel : and alas ! many 
professors who bid fair for heaven, when in moderate 
circumstances, after becoming rich, are found "drown- 
ed in perdition' 1 — u pierced through with many sor- 
rows." Poverty and suffering are by infinite wisdom 
judged best for the traveller to Zion. Let the Lord's 
people be contented with their condition, and thank- 
ful that they are preserved from snares and tempta- 
tions, which they would have found it difficult to with- 
stand. God will not suffer them to be tempted above 
what they are able to bear, but with the temptation 
provides a way for their escape. The rich are ex- 
posed to suffering as well as the poor; though their suf- 
ferings may be of a different kind. The poor man 
may be forced by necessity to live on coarse bread; the 
rich man also, while tantalized with the daily sight of 
the finest of the wheat, is obliged for the sake of his 
health, to live upon bran. The poor man. lies on a 
hard bed, because he can afford to get no better ; the 
rich man lies as hard to preserve himself from aches 
and pains, which are the natural fruit of luxury. 
The poor man has little of the honours of the world, 
but then he is envied by none, and passes along in 
obscurity, without being set up as a mark to be shot 
at, by envy and malignity, which is often the lot of 
the rich. When sickness comes, the rich man has 
some advantages, but when oppressed with painful 
sickness, neither a bed of down, nor rich hangings and 
carpets, contribute any thing to his relief; and in such 
a time of distress, the privations of the poor, though 
the imagination readily magnifies them, add not much to 
the pain produced by disease. But we have #d well 
too long on this comparison between the real suffer- 

19 



218 THOUGHTS ON 

ings of the rich and the poor. More after all depends 
upon the submission and patient temper of the mind, 
than upon external circumstances; and, indeed, so 
short is the time of man's continuance upon earth, 
and so infinite the joys or miseries of the future 
world, that to make much of these little dii 
would be like estimating the weight of a feather 
when engaged in weighing mountains. Who thinks 
it a matter of any concern, whether the circum- 
stances of persons who lived a thousand years ago 
were affluent or destitute, except, so far at 
external enjoyments and privations contributed to 
their moral improvement, or the contrary? It' we 
could be duly impressed with the truths which re- 
spect our eternal condition, we should consider our 
afflictions here as scarcely worthy oi being named. 
Thus the apostle Paul seemed to view his own suffer- 
ings, and those of his fellow Christians, when he said, 
" For I reckon that the sufferings ^( this present time, 
are not worthy to be compared with the glory which 
shall be revealed in us." Compared with the suffer- 
ings of others, those of the apostle were neither few 
nor small ; but in the view of eternity by faith, he 
calls them " these light afflictions which are but for a 
moment ;" and he had learned the happy art, not o 
of being contented, in whatever State he was, hut of 
rejoicing in all his tribulations; not that tribulation, 
considered in itself, could be a matter of rejoicing, for 
who ever found pain and reproach to be pleasant ? 
Bui he rejoiced in these things on account of their 
salutary effects, "for," says he, u tribulation work 
patience, and patience experience, and experience hop.*, 
and hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of I 
is shed abroad in our hearts by the 1 loly Ghost/' 
primitive Christians were encouraged to hear patiei 
and joyfully, their present sufferings, on account of 
rich and gracious reward which awaited them in 
world to come. Upon the mere principle of * 
trast, our earthly sorrows will render our heavemy 
joys-Mie sweeter. But this is not all: — hear the wo 
of Jesus himself, "Blessed are they who are perse- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 219 

cuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom 
of heaven. Blessed are ye when men shall revile 
you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil 
against you falsely, for my sake: rejoice and be exceed- 
ing glad, for great is your reward in heaven." Peter 
also testifies, "and if ye suffer for righteousness' sake, 
happy are ye," — "for it is better, if the will of God 
be so, that ye suffer for wed doing than for evil doin^. 
For Christ once suffered, the just for the unjust." He 
was also of the same opinion with his brother Paul, 
that Christians ought to rejoice in all their sufferings 
for righteousness' sake. " Beloved," says he, " think 
it not si range concerning the fiery trial which is to try 
you, as though some strange thing happened unto you : 
but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's 
sufferings, that when his glory shall be revealed, ye 
may be glad also with exceeding joy. If ye be re- 
proached for the name of Christ, happy are ye, for 
the Spirit of God resteth on you." " If any man 
suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let 
him glorify God on this behalf.'' Let Zion's mourners 
lift up their heads and rejoice, for though weeping 
may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morn- 
ing ! Let all Christians manifest to others the sweet- 
ness and excellency of religion, by rejoicing continu 
ally in the Lord. The perennial sources of their spi- 
ritual joy can never fail — for while God lives and 
reigns, they ought to rejoice. Since Christ has died, and 
ever lives to make intercession for them, they have 
ground of unceasing joy. While the throne of grace 
is accessible, let the saints rejoice ; let them rejoice in 
all the promises of God, which are exceeding great 
and precious, and are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus 
to the glory of God. 

In one sense, all out sufferings are the fruits of sin, 
for if we had never sinned, we should never have 
^suffered : but, in another sense, the sufferings of be- 
iievers are produced by love : " whom the Father 
loveth, he chasteneth and scourgeth every son whom 
he receiveth." As in the economy of salvation, God 
leaves his chosen people to struggle with the remain 



220 THOUGHTS ON 

ders of sin in their own hearts; so he has ordained, 
that their pilgrimage to the heavenly Canaan, shall be 
through much tribulation. From the beginning the 
saints have generally been a poor and afflicted people, 
often oppressed and persecuted; and when exempt 
from sufferings from the hands of men, they arc often 
visited with sickness, or have their hearts sorely lacer- 
ated by the bereavement of dear friends, are punished 
with poverty, or loaded with obloquy and reproach. 
There seems to be an incongruity in believers enjoy- 
ing ease and prosperity, in this world, when their 
Lord was "a man of sorrows and acquainted with 
grief." It seems, indeed, to be a condition of our 
reigning with Him, that we, should sutler with Him, 
When James and John, under the influence of ambi- 
tion, asked for the highest places in his kingdom, he 
said to them, " Can ye drink o( the cup which I drink 
of, and be baptized with the baptism thai I am bap- 
tized with?" They seem not to have understood his 
meaning, for, with self-confidence, they answered, 
" We are able." He replied, - Ye shall, indeed, drink 
of the cup that I drink of, and be baptized with 
the baptism that I am baptized with.'' For the 
Christian to seek great things for himself here, does 
not become the character of a disciple of the meek 
and lowly Jesus. The early Christians were called 
to endure much persecution, but they did not count 
their lives dear unto them. When the apostles, after 
our Lord's ascension, were publicly beaten for preach- 
ing that the Saviour was risen, they rejoiced to- 
gether that they were counted worthy to sutler such 
things for his name's sake. It is a striking pecu- 
liarity in the religion of Christ, that, in the conditions 
of discipleship, "taking up the cross" is the fust 
thing. He never tempted any to follow him with 
the promise of earthly prosperity, or exemption from 
suffering. On the contrary, he assures them that 
in the world they shall have tribulation. He docs, 
indeed, promise to those who forsake father and mo- 
ther, wife and children, brothers and sisters, houses 
anJ lands, a compensation of a hundred fold more 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 221 

than they had left ; but lie permits them not to fall into 
the delusion that this hundred fold was to consist in 
sanhly good things, for he immediately adds, " with 
persecution." Whosoever will not take Christ with 
lis cross, shall never sit with him on his throne. 
''No cross, no crown " holds out an important truth 
in few words. Christ, in his intercessory prayer, does 
request, for his disciples, that they may be kept from 
the evil, which is in the world, but he means from the 
" evil one," — from the evil of sin, and from tempta- 
tions above their strength to endure. 

The reasons why Christ has chosen that his people 
should be afflicted, and often sorely persecuted, are 
not difficult to be ascertained. In the former essay, 
it was shown that the rod is one of God's means for 
recovering backsliders from their wanderings ; but 
afflictions are also employed to prevent Christians 
from backsliding. In prosperity, pride is apt to rise 
and swell; carnal security blinds their eyes ; the love 
of riches increases; spiritual affections are feeble; 
and eternal things are viewed as far off, and concealed 
by a thick mist. These circumstances are, indeed, 
the common precursors of backsliding ; but to prevent 
this evil, and to stir up the benumbed feelings of piety, 
the believer is put into the furnace. At first, he finds 
it hard to submit, and is like a wild bull in a net. 
His pride and his love of carnal ease resist the hand 
that smites him ; but severe pam awakes him from 
his sleep, and he finds himself in the hands of his 
heavenly Father, and sees that nothing can be gained 
by murmuring or rebelling. His sins rise up to 
view, and he is convinced of the justice of the di- 
vine dispensations. His hard heart begins to yield, 
and he is stirred up to cry mightily to God for help- 
ing grace. Although he wishes and prays for de- 
liverance from the pressure of affliction ; yet he is 
more solicitous that it should be rendered effectual 
to subdue his pride, wean him from the love of the 
world, and give perfect exercise to patience and re- 
signation, than that it should be removed. He knows 
that the furnace is the place for purification. He hopes 

19* 



222 THOUGHTS ON 

and prays that his dross may be consumed ; and that 
he may come forth as gold which has passed seven 
times through the refiner's fire. 

Paul attributes a powerful efficacy to afflictions ; 
so as to place them among the most efficacious means 
of grace. "For," says he, "our light affliction 
which is but for a moment, worketh out for us a far 
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." "Fur- 
thermore, we have had fathers of our flesh, which 
corrected us, and we gave them reverence; shall we 
not much rather be in subjection to the Father of 
spirits and live? For they, verily, for a few d 
corrected us after their own pleasure, but lie for our 
profit, that we might be partakers o{ his holin 
Now, no cha8teniDg for the present seeineth to be joy- 
ous but grievous; nevertheless, afterward it yielded) 
the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them who 
are exercised thereby/' When faith is in very 
lively exercise, believers can rejoice even in tribula- 
tion. Not that they cease to feel the pain ot* the rod 
— for then it would cease to be an affliction — but 
while thf.y experience the smart, they are convinced 
that it is operating as a salutary though bitter medi- 
cine; and they rejoice in the prospect, or feeling of 
returning health. But, again, God pours not the rich 
consolations of his grace into a heart that is not 
broken. " He sendeth the rich empty away." ; < The 
whole need not a physician ;" but when by affliction 
he has broken the hard heart, and emptied it of self- 
confidence, he delights to pour in the joy of the Holy 
Ghost. Therefore, it often occurs, that the believer's 
most joyful seasons are his suffering seasons. He 
has, it is true, more pungent pain, than when in 
prosperity and ease, but he has also richer, deeper 
draughts of consolation. Though sorrow and joy 
are opposite, there is a mysterious connexion between 
them. Sorrow, as it were, softens and prepares the 
heart for the reception of the joy of the Lord. As 
the dispensations of God towards his children, are 
exceedingly diverse, in different ages, so his dealings 
with individual believers, who live at the same time, 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. **,3 

are very different. Why it is so we cannot tell ; but 
we are sure, that he has wise reasons for all that he 
does. In some cases, pious persons appear to pas? 
through life with scarcely a touch from his rod ; 
while others, who to us do not appear to need more 
chastisement than those, are held the greater part of 
their life under the heavy pressure of affliction, with 
scarcely any intermission. Here is a Christian man 
who has nearly reached the usual termination of 
human life, and has hardly known what external 
affliction is, in his own experience. Prosperity has 
attended him through his whole course. But there 
is a desolate widow who has been bereaved of her 
husband and children, and has neither brother nor 
sister, nephew nor niece, and for eight years has been 
confined to her bed, by wasting and painful disease, 
and has no hope of relief on this side of the grave. 
Such a disparity is striking; but we see only the 
outside of things. There are sore afflictions of the 
mind, while the body is in health That man may 
have had severer chastisement than this afflicted, 
desolate widow. I have heard an aged Christian de- 
clare, that though he had experienced much sickness, 
lost many dear friends, and met with many sore dis- 
appointments in life, his sufferings on these accounts 
were not to be compared with the internal anguish 
which he often endured, and of which no creature 
had the least conception. This shows that we are 
not competent to form an accurate judgment of the 
sufferings of different persons. Besides, when afflic- 
tion has been long continued, we become, in a mea- 
sure, accustomed to it, and, as it were, hardened 
against it ; but when we judge of such cases, we 
transfer our own acute feelings to the condition, 
which are no correct standard of the sufferings, of the 
patient, under a lingering disease. The widow, to 
whom I referred, was not a fictitious, but a real per- 
son I once visited her, and conversed with her, 
and found her serene and happy; desiring nothing 
but a speedy departure, that she might be absent 
from the body, and present with the Lord; but she 



224 THOUGHTS ON 

was not impatient; she was willing to remain and 
suffer just as Long as God pleased. Her heart was 
truly subdued to the obedience of Christ. There was 
only one earthly object for which she seemed to feel 
solicitude, and that was the little forsaken, and 
almost desolate church of which she was a member. 
For a series of years, disaster after disaster had fallen 
upon tins little ilock. Their house f worship had 
been accidentally burnt, rhey had been so long with- 
out a pastor, that they dwindled down to a few dis- 
heartened and scattered members, and only our b 
elder remained. Seldom was there an occasional 
moil in the place, as they had no nienl ho 

o\ meeting on the Sabbath. Now, although this poor 
widow could not have attended, if there hid been 
preaching every Lord' el that little church 

as a burden on her mind ; and I heard a minister who 
knew the circumstai . that i poor wise 

man saved a city, so this poor, pious widow, by hei 
pYayers, saved a church from extinction. For be 
her death, a neat, new church was erected, and a 

pastor settled, and a number of >ouls hopefully con- 
verted, and gathered into the church, I WS 

on a visit to a friend, who requested me to accom- 
pany her to see a sick' woman, supposed to be near 

her end. The house was not a cabin, but a n 
wreck of a once comfortable dwelling. Eyery ap- 
pearance oi comfort was absent. The. partitions ap- 
peared to have been taken down, and the w! 
house was turned into one large room. Th 
no glass in the windows — hut that mattered not, it 
was summer. Upon entering this desolate place, I 
saw the sick woman lying on a miserable bed, unable 
to raise her head from the pillow, and attended only 
by an aged mother above eighty years of age, and a 
little daughter about seven or eight. Here, ind< 
seemed to be the very picture of wretchedness ; and 
I was told that her brutal husband generally came 
home drunk, and never gave her a kind or soothing 
word. — Hear the conclusion — I verily thought before 
I left the house, that this was the happiest woman 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 225 

I ever saw. Her devout and tender eye was sweeily 
fixed on heaven. Her countenance was serene, and 
illumined with a heavenly smile. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Death- bed of the Believer. 

We have arrived now, at a very solemn part of our 
subject. The writer feels that it is so to himself, as 
he knows that he must soon be called to travel the 
road which leads to the narrow house, appointed for 
all living. If after having gone through this scene, 
he were permitted to return* and finish these papers 
on Religious Experience, by narrating what the soul 
suffers in passing the gate of death ; and more es- 
pecially, what are its views and feelings, the moment 
after death, he would be able to give information 
which at present no mortal can communicate. The 
thought has often occurred, when thinking on this 
subject, that the surprise of such a transition as that 
from time to eternity, from the state of imprisonment 
in this clay tenement, to an unknown state of exist- 
ence, would be overwhelming even to the pious. 
But these are short-sighted reflections. We under 
take to judge of eternal things, by rules only suited 
to our present state of being, and our present feel 
ings. That the scene will be new and sublime, 
beyond all conception, cannot be doubted ; but what 
our susceptibilities and feelings will be, when sepa- 
rated from the body, we cannot tell. Is it not possi- 
ble, that our entrance on the unseen world, may be 
preceded by a course of gradual preparation for the 
wonderful objects which it contains, analogous to our 
progress through infancy in the present world ? That 
knowledge of future things will be acquired gradu- 
ally, and not instantaneously, we are led to believe 



22() THOUGHTS ON 

from the constitution of the human mind, and from 
all the analogies of nature. The soul may therefore 
have i<> go to school again, to learn the first elem 
itial knowledge ; and who will 
. or how long tl ::iu r may continue, il 

i Min to conj( * ial pro- 

coin- 
ins in which w 
upon earth, will be from the first vivid and 
or v. these things will al first be buried 

sort of oblivion, and be brought up to view gi 
and successively, who c us? But 1 must with- 

draw my imagination from a t, to which her 

powers are entirely inadequate. Though I have i 
fond of those writings of Dirk, Taylor, and \v 
which give >pe to reasonings from . , in 

r< b trd to the future condition of the believer, yet I 
am persuaded, that they add nothing to our real 
kno Their lucubrations resemble the vain 

efforts of a man born blind to describe to bis fel 
sufferers, the brilliance of the stars, ti 
the sun, or tin' milder beauties of 
While he seems to himself to approach nearest to the 
object, he in fact is most remote from any just 
ceptions o[ it. Tins brings to recollection, what 
often appeared highly probable, in regard to the 
velopement o\ our mental powers; that as in infancy 
some of our most important faculti iple, 

reason, conscience, and taste, are entirely dormant, 
and gradually and slowly make their app< 
afterwards; so, probably, this whole life is a s 
infancy in relation to that which is to come, and there 
may exist now, in these incomprehensible souls of 
ours, germs of faculties never iu the least developed 
in this world, but which will spring into activity 
soon as the soul feels the penetrating beams of celes- 
tial light; and which will be brought to maturity 
just at the time when they are needed. The capacity 
of the beatific vision may now be possessed by the 
soul, deeply enveloped in that darkness which con- 
ceals the internal powers of the mind even from itself, 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 227 

except so far as they are manifested by their actual 
exercise. How shallow then, is all our mental phi- 
losophy, by which we attempt to explore the depths 
of the human mind ! But are these conjectural specu- 
lations for edification ? Do they bring us any nearer 
to God, and to our beloved Redeemer? I cannot say, 
that they do. At the best, they are no more than an 
innocent amusement ; and in indulging them, we are 
in great danger of becoming presumptuous, and even 
foolish, by supposing that we possess knowledge, 
when in fact our brightest light is but darkness. 
Vain man would be wise. Let us then cease from 
man — let us cease from our own unsubstantial dreams, 
and lay fast hold of the sure word of prophecy as of 
a light shining in a dark place. " To the law and to 
the testimony; if they speak not according to these, 
there is no light in them," or as some render the pas- 
sage, "light shall never rise to them." One simple 
declaration of the word of God is worth more to a 
soul descending into the valley and shadow of death, 
than all the ingenious and vivid imaginings of the 
brightest human minds. 

Considering the absolute and undoubted certainty 
of our departure out of life, it seems passing strange 
that we should be so unconcerned. If even one of a 
million escaped death, this might afford some shadow 
of a reason for our carelessness; but we know that 
"it is appointed unto men once to die." In this war- 
fare there is no discharge, and yet most men live as 
if they were immortal. I remember the foolish 
thought which entered my childish mind, when my 
mother informed me that we all must die. I enter- 
tained the hope that before my time came, some great 
change would take place, I knew not how, by which 
I should escape this dreaded event. I have nothing 
to do with the death of the wicked at present. The 
dying experience of the believer is our proper sub- 
ject, and we read that one object of Christ's coming 
into the world was "to deliver such as were all 
their life time in bondage through fear of death." 
Death, in itself considered, is a most formidable evil, 



228 THOUGHTS ON 

and can bo desirable to none. The fear of death is 
not altogether the consequence of sin ; the thing is 
abhorrent to the constitution of man. Death was 
held up in terror to our first parents when innocent, 
to prevent their transgression, and having entered the 
world by their sin in whom we all sinned, this event 
has been, ever since, a terror to mortals — u Thk Kino 
of Terrors.' 9 Man instinctively cleaves to life; so 
does every sentient being. There are only two things 
which can possibly have the effect of reconciling any 
man to death. The first is, the hope of escaping 
from misery which is felt to be 1 intolerable : the Ofhei 

an assurance of a better, that is a heavenly country. 
Tbc captain of our salvation conquered death, and 
bun thai had the power of death, that is the Devil, 
by dying himself By this means, be plucked from 
tins monster bis deadly sting, by satisfying the de- 
mands of God's holy law. "For the sting of death 
is sin, and the strength of sin is the law." All tfa 
therefore, who are united to Christ, meet death as a 
conquered and disarmed enemy. Against them h 
powerless. Still, however, be wear^ a threatening 
aspect, and although he cannot kill, hfl can frown and 
threaten, and this often frightens the timid sheep. 

They often do not know that tbey are delivered from 
bis tyranny, and that now he can do nothing but 
fdsely accuse, and roar like a hungry lion disappoint- 
ed of bis prey. There are still some who all their 
lifetime are subject to bondage " through fear of 
death." Their confidence is shaken by so many dis- 
tressing doubts, that though sincerely engaged in the 
service of God, they can never think of death with- 
out sensible dread; and often they are afraid, that 
when the last conflict shall come, they will be 
overwhelmed with terror and despair, that they shall 
prove a dishonour to their Christian profession. I 
recollect a sickly, but pious lady, who with a profu- 
sion of tears, expressed her anxiety and fear in the 
view of her approaching end; and there seemed to be 
ground for her foreboding apprehensions, becai 
from the beginning of her profession, she had enjoyed 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 229 

no comfortable assurance, but was of the number of 
those who, though they "fear God, and obey the 
voice of his servant, yet walk in darkness and have 
no light" of comfort. But mark the goodness of 
God, and the fidelity of the Great Shepherd. Some 
months afterwards I saw this lady on her death-bed, 
and was astonished to find that Christ had delivered 
her entirely from her bondage. She was now near to 
her end and knew it, but she shed no tears now but 
those of joy and gratitude. All her darkness and 
sorrow were gone, and her heart glowed with love 
to the Redeemer, and all her anxiety now was to de- 
part and be with Jesus. There was, as it were, a 
beaming of heaven in her countenance. I had before 
tried to comfort her, but now I sat down by her bed- 
side to listen to the gracious words which proceeded 
from her mouth, and could not but send up the fer- 
vent aspiration, "0 let me die the death of the right- 
eous, and let my last end be like hers." Then I knew 
that there was one who had conquered death, and him 
who has the power of death ; for Satan, to the last mo- 
ment, was not permitted to molest her. 

No arguments have ever so powerfully operated on 
my mind, to convice me of the reality and power of 
experimental religion, as witnessing the last exercises 
of some of God's children. Some of these scenes, 
though long past, have left an indelible impression on 
my memory ; and I hope a salutary impression on my 
heart. 

Another lady, and a near relative of the former, I 
had often observed passing along her way, humble, 
gentle, silent, evidently not seeking to be conspicuous, 
but rather to remain unnoticed and unknown. She 
had a few chosen female friends, with whom she freely 
communicated, for her heart was affectionate, and her 
disposition sociable — to these she poured out her in- 
most soul, and received from them a similar return. 
She was crushed under a habitual feeling of domestic 
affliction; but not of that kind which freely utters its 
complaints, and engages the sympathy of many; but 
her sorrows were such as her delicacy of feeling did 

20 



230 THOUGHTS ON 

not permit her even to allude to; the conduct of an 
imprudent father, weighed heavily on her spirits; hut 
towards him — and her mother being dead, she kept 
his house — she was assiduously respectful; and while 
lie made himself ihe laughing Btock of his acquaint- 
ances, she endeavoured to make bis home comforts 
Hut often, I thought, that her lively Bensibility to the 
ridicule and reproaches which fell upon him, would 
be an injury to her delicate constitution : and the more 
so, because this was a subject on which she would 
not converse, even with the intimate, confidential 
friends, before mentioned. It was evident, that h< i r 
health was slowly giving way, and thai the disi 
which carries off nearly one half of the adults in this 
land, was secretly cousuming her vitals. Hut die 
never complained, and seemed rather to become more 

cheerful, as her eye became more brilliant and her 

cheeks more pallid. She was for a long time after 
this, seen occupying her humble retired place m the 
house of God, and still went her accustomed rounds 

among her poor and sick neighbours, while doing every 

thing to render home comfortable to her , un- 

happy parent. At length, however, her strength 

failed, and she w;is obliged to confine herself to the 

house, and before long to her bed. Being informed 

of this, as being her pastor. I visited her. Hitherto 
her extreme modesty and retired habits had prevented 
me from having much personal acquaintance with 
this excellent woman. I was accompanied to the 
house by one of her intimate friends, who still ii 
and if she should see this paper will readily recognize 
the portrait o( her beloved friend. The h 
cottage, and all its furniture of home manufacture; 
but upon the whole there was impressed a neat] 
and order, which indicated a superior taste in her who 
had long had the sole management. I did not know 
but that from her habitual reserve and silence, she 
would be embarrassed in her feelings, and reserved in 
her communications; but I was happily disappointed. 
She received me with an affectionate smile, and a 
cordial shake of the hand, and said that she was 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 231 

pleased that I had thought it worth my while to come 
and see a poor dying woman. Not many minutes 
were spent in compliments, or general remarks ; she 
entered freely and most intelligently, into a narrative 
of her religious exercises, which had commenced at 
an early period of her life, but expatiated in the 
sweetest manner, on the divine excellencies of the 
Saviour; not as one who was speaking what she bad 
learned from others, or from the mere exertion of her 
own intellect; but as one who felt in the heart every 
word which she uttered. There was a gentleness, a 
suavity, and a meek humility expressed in every tone 
of her voice, and the same depicted on every linea- 
ment of her countenance. Though, when in health, 
she was never reckoned beautiful, yet there was now 
in her countenance, animated with hope and love, 
and religious joy, or rather peace, a beauty of coun- 
tenance which I never saw equalled. It was what 
may without impropriety be called spiritual beauty. 
I found what I had not known before, that her mind 
had been highly cultivated by reading, and this was 
manifest in the propriety, and indeed I may say, ele- 
gance of her language. Not that she aimed at say- 
ing fine things. Such an idea never entered her hum- 
ble mind; but possessing, naturally, a good under- 
standing, which she had carefully improved by read- 
ing, especially the best religious authors, and being 
now animated with a flow of pious affection, which 
seemed never to ebb ; all these things gave her lan- 
guage a fluency, a glow, and a vividness, which was 
truly remarkable. I have often regretted that I had 
not put down, at the time, her most striking expres- 
sions, but the mere words could convey no more than 
the shadow of such a scene. It has often been re- 
marked, that the speeches of great orators, when 
written and read, have scarcely a resemblance to the 
same speeches, delivered with all the pathos, the grace, 
and the varied intonations and gestures of the orator. 
The same may more truly be said of the sayings of 
the lying Christian ; we may catch the very words, 
bur the spirit, the sacred and solemn tones, free from 



232 THOUGHTS ON 









all affectation, the heavenly serenity of countenance, 
and the nameless methods of manifesting the pious 
affections of the heart, never can be preserved, nor 
distinctly conveyed, by words, to others. The mind 
of this young lady possessed a uniform serenity, un- 
disturbed with fears, doubts, or cares. Every thing 
seemed right to her submissive temper. It was 
enough, that her heavenly Father appointed it to be 
so. For many weeks she lay in this state of perfect 
tranquillity, as it were in the suburbs of heaven; and 
I believe no one ever heard a complaint from her lips. 
Even that grief which had preyed on her health, 
when able to go about, had now ceased to cause her 
pain. Hers was, in my apprehension, th<' nearesl ap- 
proximation to complete happin< ss which l evei 
upon earth; yet there was no violence of feeling, no 
agitation, no rapture. It was thai kind of happiness 
which from its gentleness and calmness, is capable 
continuance. As it was her request that I should visit 
hei often, I did bo as frequently as the distance of my 

residence, and other avocations would permit: not, 

as I often said, with any expectation ot' communica- 
ting any good to her. hut of receiving spiritual bene- 
fit from her heavenly conversation. O! how often 

did I wish that the boldest infidels — and they were 
rampant at that time — could have been introduced 
into the chamber of this dying saint. I often, espe- 
cially after witnessing this scene, endeavoured to de- 
SCrihe to such as attended preaching, the power of 

religion to sustain the soul in the last earthly conflict ; 
but they were incredulous as to the tacts, or ascribed 
them to some strange enthusiasm which buoyed up 
the soul in a preternatural manner'. Hut here there 
was no enthusiasm — nothing approaching to what 
may be called a heated imagination. All was sober 
— all was serene — all was gentle — all was rational ; 
and, although five and forty years have passed since 
this scene was witnessed, the impression on my mind, 
is distinct and vivid. The indescribable countenance, 
calm but animated, pale with disease, but lighted up 
with an unearthly smile ; the sweet and affection- 



KELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 233 

ate rones of voice — the patient, submissive, cheerful, 
grateful temper, are all remembered with a vividness 
and permanence with which I remember nothing of 
recent occurrence. When I think of such scenes, I 
have often thought and said, " if this be delusion, then 
let my soul for ever remain under such delusion." 

If the foregoing was a sample of the death-bed ex- 
ercises of all Christians, then would I say, that his last 
days are his best days, and the day of death happier 
than the day of birth. This, however, is far from 
being a true view of the general fact. It is a select 
case — one of a thousand — upon the whole, the hap- 
piest death I ever witnessed. I have, indeed, seen 
dying persons agitated with a kind of delirious rapture; 
in which the imagination has been so excited, that the 
person looked and spoke, as if the objects of another 
world were actually present to the view. In such 
case, the nervous system loses its tone, and when the 
general feelings are pious, and the thoughts directed 
heavenward, the whole system is thrilled with an inde- 
scribable emotion. And we have a number of record- 
ed death-scenes, which partake of this character ; and 
are greatly admired and extolled by the injudicious 
and fanatical. Scenes of this kind are frequently the 
effect of disease, and sometimes of medicine operating 
on the idiosyncrasy of particular persons. Such per- 
sons may be pious, but the extraordinary exhilaration 
and exstasy, of which they are the subjects, ought not 
to be ascribed to supernatural influence, but to physical 
causes. Between such experiences, and the case de- 
scribed above, there is no more resemblance, than 
between a blazing meteor, which soon burns itself out, 
and the steady, genial beams of the vernal sun. I 
once witnessed an extraordinary scene of this kind in 
a skeptic, who neglected religion, and scoffed at its 
professors, till very near the close of life ; and then 
seemed to be agitated and exhilarated with religious 
ideas and feelings, leading him to profess his faith in 
Christ, and to rejoice, and exult in the assurance of 
salvation, and all this without any previous conviction 
of sin, and unmingled at the time with deep penitential 

20* 



234 TflOtT&HTS ON 

feelings. Well, why might it not have been an in- 
stance of sovereign grace, like that of the thief on the 
cross? It is possible. As in life, that piety which is 
founded on knowledge, and in which the faculties of 
(he mind continue to be well balanced, and the judg* 
inent sound, is by far the least suspicious; so t: 

death-bed exercises, which are of a similar chara 
are much to be preferred to those which arc flighty, 

and in which reason seems to regulate the helm no 
longer; but an excited, and irregular imagination 
sumes the government of the man. According to this 
rule, some glowing narratives of dead 
sel aside, as, it' not spurious, yet not deserving to be 

admired and celebrated as they often are. 



CHAPTEB XVII. 

l>< ufa i" 'I r.\< rcia i of Audit m Rhn 

I PROPOSE now to give a summary view of the re- 
corded experiences (^ several eminent persona on 
their death-bed ; and as comparisons among the living 

are odious, SO also among the dead I Will endea\ 

to cat the pari o{ an impartial and faithful narrator, 

but having given my analysis I will leave my 

to judge respecting the genuineness of tic devotion 

of the persons wli shall be introdu 

Our accounts of the death-scenes o( the apost 

too brief to enable us to say much about them: hut 

judging from their epistles, we may conclude, that 

they met death, not only with firmness, but with joy. 

Not one of them ever expresses the least fear of death; 

but on the contrary, Paul speaks with exultation 

of the prospect before him; for he exclaims, - I am 

now ready to be offered up and the time of my 

departure is at hand. I have fought a good fightj 

I have finished my course, I have kept the faith] 



• RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 235 

henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of right- 
eousness, which God, the righteous Judge, will gi~ T e 
me at that day, and not to me only but to all who 
love his appearing." And Peter who knew that he 
was to go out of the world by a violent death as 
Cnrist had showed him ; yet seems to be no how 
troubled about it, but when old, speaks of it with the 
utmost composure. "Yea, I think it meet," says he, 
"as long as I am in this tabernacle, to stir you up by 
putting you in remembrance ; knowing that shortly 
I must put off this my tabernacle, even as our Lord 
Jesus Christ hath showed me." No doubt, John, the 
beloved disciple, sweetly fell asleep, with " love" upon 
his lips and in his heart. His whole soul seems to have 
been dissolved into love, and to such a man death 
could have no terrors. His brother James, who was 
slain by the sword of Herod, is the only one of the 
apostles of whose death we have an account in the 
sacred word; except the awful account of the suicide 
of the traitor. Of the circumstances of the death of 
James, who seems to have been one of the most dis- 
tinguished, and who always, when a selection was 
made to witness any particular scene, was one of them; 
the historian, with characteristic brevity, says, <; Now 
about that time, Herod the king, stretched forth 
his hands to vex certain of the church. And he 

KILLED JAMES, THE BROTHER OF JOHN, WITH THE 

sword." From this we may learn, that in order to 
go safely to heaven, it is not necessary, that we 
should have a laudatory obituary on earth. I have 
often been shocked with the thought, that while a 
man's eulogy is pronounced upon earth, the poor 
soul may be writhing and blaspheming in the tor- 
ments of hell ! Among the primitive members of the 
Church, Stephen was the first martyr, and his death 
was — I will not say heroic — for heroes know nothing 
of Christ or heaven— but I will say it was Christian. 
which is a much better style of dying, than any of the 
heathen heroes or heroines knew any thing about. 
He was well prepared, for he had just before been 
favoured with a direct view into heaven, and saw 






23f) THOUGHTS ON 






Christ on the right hand of God. No wounds on the 
body would be felt by one absorbed in such a hea- 
venly vision. how little can they harm us, who 
can do no more than kill the body! They rushed upon 
the man and hurried him to the place of execution, 
and stoned linn, •• calling on [God,] and Baying. 
Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And he kneeled dowr 
and cried with a loud voice. Lord, lay not this sin 

to their charge. And when lie had said this, lie 

(ell asleep. " There was nothing Wanting here (,) 
render this a glorious death. And as he is called the 

protomartyr, so his death was a prototype oi the 
:ihs of succeeding martyrs. The accounts given <>i 

the joys and triumphs of some of them, approximate 

(o miracle; hut we know not how insensible to bodily 
pain, the soul may he rendered, which is overflowing 
with the love <>t' Christ. This is the tju< ! oi 

(heir ambition to be crucified or burnt, or cast to the 
wild beasts. But as thc.se martyrs seem to have been 
•mother race <»!' men from us, ami lived m tin 
different from ours, let us come down and contem- 
plate the dying Christian in circumstances similar to 
our own; and see whit grace can dn^ m these latter 
days. And I prop- elect the experiences of men 

>f different countries. The accounts which I shall 
bring forward are not new: to some of my readers 

(hey may all he familiar ; hut as the men were eminent 
in the church, and distinguished tor talents, their bi- 
ographies being commonly known, will answer the end 
in view, better than the death-bed i a of un- 

known persons, of whose lives we could have no satis- 
factory information. 

The first person of whose dying exercises I propose 
<o give a condensed narrative is Andrew Rivi: r, a 
Frenchman by birth and education, but who spent 
the greater part of his life in Holland ; where, at Ley- 
den, he was professor of theology. The learned n 
not be informed, that in that age when theolo 
more thoroughly studied, than in any other since the 
apostles' days, Andrew Rivet had no superior, whether 
you contemplate him as an exegetical or polciiu- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 237 

cal theologian. His acquaintance with the Christian 
fathers was most exact and extensive ; and he knew 
how to estimate their labours, and what deference 
was due to their authority, of which he gave full evi- 
dence, in the work entitled Critici Sacri, which is 
now the best guide on this subject, which the young 
theologian can follow. Rivet's theology was as sound 
as it was extensive. His great learning did not turn 
his head or lead him into heresy ; but it will be seen 
by the following narrative abridged from Middleton, 
how iittle value he set on all his learning, compared 
with the teaching of the divine Spirit. 

Having preached a sermon on Christmas day, he 
was, immediately afterwards, taken ill, with a con- 
stipation of the bowels. Of a beloved niece, who 
attended on him, he asked what she thought of his 
disease, which he thought would prove mortal. She 
answered, that, she was of the same opinion, but that 
he had nothing to fear, having been long prepared to 
follow God, when he should call — and that his life had 
already been long, and nothing remained to be desired, 
but that it should be crowned with a happy and glo- 
rious end ! "Thou speakest right, " said he, "and I 
pray thee always address thyself to me with like 
speeches, and while my sickness continues, depart 
not from me, day nor night. Promise me now that 
thou wilt keep a cheerful countenance, and that thou 
wilt speak nothing to me, but what may administer 
joy and support to me. Although I fear not death, 
yet I fear the trial of those pains which I have always 
had a very sharp feeling of." Then, suddenly turn- 
ing his speech unto God, he said, " Great God, thou 
art my Father, thou hast given me both life and a 
new life ; thou hast taught me from my youth, and 
I have declared thy wonderful works ; forsake m** 
not now in my old age. Hitherto, through thy pecu- 
liar favour, thou hast preserved me sound in my body 
and my faculties, and the functions of my mind have 
not been impaired, so that a little before I was op- 
pressed by this disease, I found myself as apt and 
ready for the exercise of my vocation, as in my flour 












238 THOUGHTS ON 

ishing youth. Lord God ! if it be thy will that I 
should longer attend upon thy service, thou canst 
assuage my disease in one moment; but if thou hast 
decreed otherwise, thy will be done. This one thing 
I beg vvitli most inward affections, that thou wilt make 
me conformable to thy good will — lei not thy _ 
Spirit depart from me, thai in this conflict thy strength 
may make me a conqueror; accomplish this, L 
tor thine own sake, and since thou hast employed nie 
in thy work, grant that I may die an honourable 
death, and such as may be an example unto Otfa 
that I may stand fasl in th.it sound doctrine which I 

have taught, and may make a good confession thereof 

before witnesses — thai thereby thy church may be 

both instructed and eddied. L.-t me apply to m\ 

by a lively faith, all tip' promises of the gospel, and 
let them put forth their efficacy in me, unto my joy 
and eternal consolation, that nothing in the world, 
neither affliction nor distress, may separate me from 

thee, or cause me to doub( of thy love and favour. 
Thou knowest my weakness and infirmities : permit 
not the grievousness of my pain to east me into impa- 
tience or murmuring, lather make my pains tolera 
or furnish me with fortitude and constancy sufficient 
to hear them : that I may not offend with my tongue, 
keep thou the door of my lips!" The pains of his 
disease were very great, hui he continued to call Upon 

God for help and for support His expressions oi his 

own sinfulness and weakness were of the most ahas- 
. ing kind. Confessing himself to be a miserable sinner, 
and easting away all confidence in any good thing 
which he had done in his life, be accused his own 
defects, and ascribed unto God all the good which he 
had ever done, often repeating such expression- 
these: "It is God that hath wrought the work for 
me; shall I allege or plead my own righteous 
before Him? Far be thai from me. If I should jus- 
tify myself, my own mouth would condemn me. I 
will rather open my sin before Him in a most hum- 
ble confession of it, and pray that He will increase in 
me the grace of true repentance; yea, let Him V 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 239 

out this body with sorrow, it matters not, so He give 
to me a broken and a contrite spirit, which is a sacri- 
fice acceptable unto himself. As for my part, I do 
most willingly offer up myself. Accept, Lord, this 
imperfect sacrifice, and supply the defects thereof by 
the perfect righteousness of that great High Priest, 
who, through the eternal Spirit, offered himself unto 
God without spot. Let me be accepted as a living 
sacrifice, holy, and well pleasing unto God, which is 
our reasonable service. Crucify, Lord, this old man, 
that the body of sin may be utterly destroyed, and 
that I may rise to newness of life. The wages of sin 
is death, but the gift of God is eternal life, through 
Jesus Christ, our Lord." He repeated the word 
gift, and added, u it is mere grace, not of works, but 
of him that calleth." " Who shall lay any thing to 
the charge of God's elect? If is God that justifieth. 
Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that 
died; yea, rather, that is risen again, ivho is even at 
the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession 
for us" 

After a short sleep, he proceeded, in the following 
strain : " I am God's, and He will save me. He hath 
honoured me with a holy calling, and hath not suffered 
his gift to be altogether useless in me, as to the edifi- 
cation of his church. As to myself, I can most truly 
affirm, that I have not served Him for filthy lucre, 
but with a sincere heart ; and that I myself was first 
persuaded of the truth of the gospel, before I preached 
it to others. I tasted the good word of God, which, 
by its power, pierceth to the dividing asunder of soul 
and spirit, and is a discerner of the thoughts and in- 
tents of the heart. Thou hast known my heart, 
eternal God ! Thou knowest that I am not ashamed 
of the gospel of Christ, but have esteemed it my only 
honour to serve thee ; and that I have delighted my- 
self in the pleasure of obeying thy will. Such was 
thy goodness to me. I truly and humbly acknow- 
ledge that whatsoever good thing was in me, flowed 
from thy grace ; but my defects ought to be ascribed 
to my inbred corruption. Alas! I acknowledge this 



240 



THOUGHTS ON 











with humble and serious repentance. How ofter 
have I sinned in so holy a charge, not only by omit- 
ting many things which I ought to have done, bul 
also by doing many things amiss. Long had 

I been cast off, were it not that I had to do wit] 
good a Lord, who hath borne with me, and hath 
Been so gracious to me, as not to exa 

account of ray words and works. Alas! () Lord 
God! enter not into judgment with thy servant; tor 
m thy sight shall no man living he justified. Let 
he found, not having my own righteousness, but the 
righteousness <>f thy Son ; tor the sake of whom I | 
thy favour. Pardon, my God! pardon the iniquity 

o!' thy servant, who is devoted to thy fear. I refuse 

not thy discipline — I know it is necessary. Only 

this I earnestly beg, that it may turn to mv salva- 
tion. ( Chasten me. () Lord, but in measure, lest 
thou bring me to nothing. 5 Let not my trial 
my strength, lest I sin through impatience, and be- 
come a scandal to those I should edify. ? ' lie utter, d 
many similar expressions, lor which we have not 
room. 

To Renessius, a doctor of divinity, who came I 

him, lie said, " I pray you testify unto all men, that I 
die in the faith and the doctrine which I have always 
delivered, both in preaching and writing; and if in 
souk 1 things I have erred. I pray God, that He will 
make perfect all my imperfections." 

He received the visits of all who expressed a desire 
to see him. and would have none hindered from 
coming to him. "Let all that will," said he, "have 
access to visit me. I ought to L r ive an example of 
dying to other men." And to those who stood around 
his bed, he said, " Come, see a man, who is an example 
oi' the great mercy of God. What shall I render unto 
him? All his benefits overwhelm me. He hath 
so disposed my life, that in my whole course, I have 
had a healthy body. He hath heaped upon me both 
temporal and spiritual blessings; and now, before I 
am rendered feeble or morose, through old age, he 
comes unto me and prevents me. He has both called 









RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 241 

me, and made me willing to follow at his call. And 
now, when the end of my life is within my view, he 
still affords me the perfect use of reason, that I may 
praise my God in the land of the living, and instruct 
my neighbours by my example. Pray for me, my 
friends, that this grace may be continued unto me, un- 
til I draw my last breath; that He will strengthen my 
faith, confirm my patience, and raise my hope. He 
hath already captivated all my affections to his will. 
I have cast the care of me, of mine, of life, and all my 
affairs, upon him. Let him do with my body as it 
pleaseth him, so it may but be well with my soul. 
* * * And now there is nothing I am concerned 
about, neither is my life dear unto me, so that I may 
finish my course with joy, and fulfil the ministry which 
I have received of the Lord ; which is best done at the 
last/' 

He would not permit any clergyman who came to 
see him, to go away without praying with him. It 
grieved him much that his wife, who was of feeble 
health, should be subjected to so much fatigue and 
watchfulness in attending on him. But as she was 
unwilling to leave him, he said, " Since thou wilt 
have it so, tarry ; it is a pleasure to me to see thee. 
The Lord strengthen thee !" Friday night was spent 
in grievous pains, and in most ardent prayers for the 
church of God, for the princes, who were defenders of 
it, for the people that lived under their jurisdiction, 
and for the pastors, to whom the care of souls was 
committed. He seemed to be greatly interested in be- 
half of the United Provinces of Holland. "0 God," 
said he, " withdraw not thy protection from these 
Provinces; neither remove thy candlestick away. 
Let not thine anger burn against them, because of 
that impiety and profaneness which hath made too 
great a progress. Rather bow their hearts unto re- 
pentance, and convert them, that thy judgments may 
be prevented. Let them coalesce in one body; espe- 
cially let them be joined unto thee, without whom 
all union is but conspiracy. Preside in their Assem- 
bly; and bend their hearts, so that all their decrees 

21 



242 



THOUGHTS ON 












may lean to the good of the Commonwealth, and 
especially of the church," <Scc. 

His sufferings were exceedingly great, but he bore 
them with wonderful patience, and whenever there 
was the least interval of ease, he \ 1 in 

prayer or exhortation. On the last day of Decem- 
ber, which closed the current year, Mr. Rivet, after 
having endured indescribable agonies from the dis- 
ease, and from the remedies made use of, offered 
up the following fervent prayer for the church : — ••() 
Lord, it is ihy possession, which thou hast purch 
with thy own blood. Forsake not thy own work — . 
let a holy jealousy be kindled in thee. Lift up on 
high the arms of thy power, and bring down the 

audacious oiks, which tyrannize over thy Qock. Re- 
buke thou the negligent that heal her wounds slight- 
ly. Reduce in die right way those that wander, 
and strengthen those ready to fall through division. 
Gather both the one and the oiler to thyself, mio one 
body, building them up upon the foundations of the 
apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the 
chief corner stone, in whom all the building fitly 
framed together, groweth into a holy temple in the 
Lord." And then making a little pause, he said, *• I 

have been one of those builders; I have brought what 

I received from the Lord that I might put to mv 
helping hand, with others, towards the building of 
the temple; and 1 myself shall he a living stone m 
the house." 

On the first day of the year 1651, and the Lord's 
day, upon opening his eyes, lie said, "0 Lord, thou 
hast granted me to see the beginning of the \ 
Thou Hast measured out my time until the middh 
this age." Having sent \o the Hague tor his son, lie 
inquired respecting the weather, and being informetl 
that the coid was sharp and severe, he prayed thus. 
"0 my God, bring my son unto me, that J may 
him, embrace him, and bless him. before I d 
Then turning to his wife, he said, "dost thou t 
that this earnest desire to see my son proceeds from 
mere natural affection? Nothing less. Truly I love 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 243 

no man any more according to the flesh. I earnestly 
desire his eternal salvation, and I hope to have such 
discourses with him, which may increase his zeal in 
adorning his spiritual vocation." (His son was a 
minister.) " I have yet spirit and utterance sufficient 
for this work. Let none be hindered from coining to 
me. It is usual for a man in my station, by admon- 
ishing others, publicly to make profession of his own 
faith. Not for the sake of a little vain-glory, Lord, 
thou knowest; for it little concerns me to be approved 
unto men, provided I may approve myself unto God. 
But I desire the salvation of many, and to give testi- 
mony to the truth of those things which I have pub 
licly taught." 

Some officers of the garrison having come to see 
him, two or three of whom were from France, he 
addressed them in the following manner, " I rejoice 
that I have an opportunity to make a confession of 
my faith before you that are my countrymen ; and I 
pray you to keep it in memory, and give testimony of 
it, where it shall be necessary. You see before you, 
a man, weak indeed, but without guile, who solemnly 
protesteth, that he hath never published in his writ- 
ings, nor taught with his lips, anything that did not 
agree with the sense of his heart, and the doctrine 
which hath been delivered to us by the prophets and 
apostles, which is the same with that laid down in 
the Confession of Faith of our churches, in which I 
have lived, and in which I purpose to die. The Lord 
God Almighty confirm you in that faith, so that no- 
thing may move you from it. ' For what will it pro- 
fit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his 
own soul ?' Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and 
the righteousness thereof, and then all other things 
•shall be added unto you. Learn to number your 
days, and get a wise heart. Look upon me, and let 
me be as an example unto you. It is but eight days 
since I preached to you of man's frailty, being myself 
in health and lively at that time, and now y~u see 
the truth of what I said, in myself." And then taking 
leave of them he said, "The Lord deliver you from 



244 THOUGHTS ON 

the allurements of the world, and give you an increase 
of his fear and of all spiritual gifts." 

When his visiters were all gone, and his own fa- 
mily stood around his bed, he said to his mere, "My 
daughter, do not depart from me, but persist with 
in the duty of prayer. Do not tear to rehearse all 
those words to me, which God shall suggest unto thy 
heart or mouth. This sweet and pleasing communi- 
cation shall help to pass over the night with the 
more ease. And God will he with lis and assist our 
good intentions. He will help our weaknesses and 
afford us matter of supplications, and thanks 
Such discourses are pleasing unto him. He attends 
unto them that tear him, when they talk together of 
those things that belong to the salvation ot* their 

souls." And then, as one in a rapture, he exclaim- 
ed, " My (iod, thou hast drawn me and I was drawn. 
Thou hast known me from my mother's womb with 
a merciful and efficacious knowledge. Thou hast 

called me by name. Thou hist bored mine ears, and 
I was attentive. I have declared thy message m the 
Congregation, and thy word was sweeter than honey 
in my mouth. Who am I, (iod, hut dust and as 
an earthen and a trail vessel, into which, notwithstand- 
ing, thou hast been pleased to pour a holy liquor, and 
seed of immortality. Thou hvest, and thou makesl 
me to live. I shall not die, hut live for ever, with 
that ' life which is hid with Christ in (um\.' Blessed 
and holy is he who hath a part in the first resuri 
tion: over him tin 1 second death shall have no power. 
< Behold I am dead, and also raised from the dead. 1 
live, but not in myself, but in the hie of the Son t>f 
God, who loved me. and gave himself for me.' Thou 
hast chosen me before thou gavest me a hem::. And 
it pleased thee that I should be born of belie. 
parents, and especially of a mother eminent in !, 
ness, who dedicated me to thy service from my ten- 
der years. With what care and affection did she 
implant the seeds of piety in me. And the Almighty 
God, who worketh in all, gave his blessing to this 
diligent nurture, and heard her ardent prayers; and 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 245 

my ministry hath been accepted of him. I am thy 
servant, my God, thou hast taught me from my 
youth; and I have taught thy wonderful works, and 
thy grace unto this day; for thy gifts have not been 
without fruit in me. Thou usest weak instruments 
for the accomplishing of thy work. Thou hast par- 
doned, thou hast helped me, thou hast accepted the 
truth and sincerity of my heart. And now, my 
God, seeing it is evident that thou wilt have me retir* 
from this valley of miseries, do not thou forsake up 
in this last and important act. If it be thy wil>, 
that I die, that also is my will. I am ready — mv 
heart is prepared. I give thee my heart, for that is it 
which thou requirest. Let this gift be approved by 
thee. Receive this gift which is thy own, from him 
to whom thou hast given all things — who gives him- 
self to thee. Lord, I give thee thanks; thou in- 
structest me, thou enlightenest me, thou talkest with 
my soul, Lord. Thou embracest me in the arms of 
thy mercy. Grant also that I may embrace thee, by 
a lively faith, and that I may apply unto myself the 
promises of the gospel, which I have proposed unto 
others. Let them be effectual in me, that by them 
I may be supported against all pains, yea, death 
itself." 

Mr. Rivet had a brother in the ministry nearly as 
eminent as himself, whom he loved with a very sin- 
cere and tender affection. The niece who now attend- 
ed on him, was the daughter of this brother, and that 
he might know the gracious dealings of God towards 
him in his sickness, he requested his niece to write 
down whatever he might say, from time to time, and 
communicate it to her father. " Not," says he, " that 
I would procure praise to myself, but I would have it 
known to all, that the religion which I have professed 
and taught in the name of God, is the true religion, 
and that alone which leads men unto salvation ; and, 
particularly, I would have my brother informed of 
that inestimable grace which I have received of God ; 
that he may be abundantly" comforted and strengthen- 
ed in his expectation of a better life, which I already 

21* 






246 THOUGHTS ON 

enjoy. ! with how great love have I loved and 
esteemed him ! Yea, I have loved the gifts of God in 
him, and shall love them to the last. I pray God, 
who is the giver of every good gift, that he will 
strengthen and make perfect his own work in him. 
Lord God, I pray not only tor my brother, but for 
all those in France to whom thou hast committed the 
conduct and rule of the churches. Bless their pen 
sanctify their gifts, grant that they may return to the 
simplicity which is in Christ, and that they detract not 
from the glory of God, to ascribe unto man what be- 
longs to his salvation." He now broke out in an 

extraordinary transport, u great and immense mer- 
cy ! who Can but be rapt into admiration? !!•' gives 
both being and well-being, — he bestows his gifts, he 
supporteth, he pardoneth, he worketh in us both to 

will and to do, according to his good pleasure, and 
when himself hath given and wrought all this, 
he gives to us an eternal reward." But not satisfied 
with sending messages to his brother, on the second d ,y 
of January he requested to be raised up and pi 

in a chair, that he might write to bun: and, accord- 
ingly, he penned, with his own hand, a farewell letter, 
full of solemnity and tenderness. He wrote also to 
his nephew, — after which exertion he found himself 
much exhausted. But the only thing which g 
him any uneasiness of mind, was. lest he should be 
disappointed in seeing his son. Hut his comf 
were not uninterrupted. After his regular physicians 
had given him up, some persons who had known 
relief, in such cases, from a particular remedy, urged 
that it should be tried. He submitted, but while the 
experiment put him to great pain, it produced 
change for the better; and when it was over, his mind 
appeared to be perturbed and uncomfortable. "Alas!'* 
said he, " He is departed from me, that made glad my 
heart. I have grieved that Holy Spirit, the comforter, 
who had filled my soul with peace and joy. I have 
been so wretched and unhappy as to give ear to those 
who spoke to me of my returning to the world. I 
have been tickled with the desire of living, and how 



J 



K£LiGf< mumftcv. I 47 

could such (i thing be, after the fruits of the heavenly 
Canaan had been tasted ?" Here he appeared much 
distressed, and casting his arms about the neck of his 
beloved niece, exclaimed, "my dear niece, help me, 
continue to discourse of good things to me. — Call 
upon the Comforter to return and renew that excel- 
lent work which he had begun in me. 0, return! re 
turn ! confirm me with thy strength before I go hence 
and be seen no more." He remained in this state of 
distress for a short time — when he was reminded of 
the precious promises of God ; but being exhausted, he 
fell into a swoon. When he opened his eyes, he said 
to his wife, who was by him, " my dearest yoke-fel- 
low, we have lived together in peace for thirty years, 
and I thank thee for thy help, which hath been a 
great comfort unto me, for I did cast all domestic 
cares on thee ; continue, I beseech thee, to love my 
children with that pious affection which thou hast 
hitherto," (the children were by a former wife.) 
Then turning to his son, who had arrived that morn- 
ing, he said, "and thou my son, love and honour this 
dearest companion of my life, the partner of all my 
joys and my sorrows, who hath done the duty of a 
mother towards thee. — This I desire of thee, and this I 
command thee, as thou expectest a blessing from God 
upon what I have gotten for my labour, — divide it 
between you, without quarrelling or contention, ac- 
cording to what is just and right." Then taking hold 
of both their hands and joining them together, he 
said, " promise that you will maintain a. holy and mu- 
tual friendship with each other," — to which they 
gave their assent. Then turning to his wife, he said, 
"the Lord bless thee, my dear love, and strengthen 
thee. He is a husband to the widow, and a father of 
the fatherless " 

And to his son, " The Almighty Father bless thee, 
my son, guide thee in all thy ways, enrich thee with 
all Christian virtues, and plentifully make thee to 
abound in all spiritual and temporal blessings ! Re- 
gard not the world, nor its deceitful hopes, for the 
world passeth away, and the lusts thereof. Place al! 



L 






24? 



THOUGHTS ON 
























thy felicity in the blessing of God. Be strong in faith, 
and prepared unto every good work. Let the peace 
of God dwell in thee, and make thee peaceable and 
kind." And to his niece, he said, « Farewell, my deal 
niece, we have a kindred in the heavens, which shall 
endure for ever." 

After many other discourses, similar to those recor- 
ded, he again collected Ins family and blessed them, 
and desired all to retire and leave him alone. His 
niece, who scarcely ever went out of bis Bight, asked 
if he wished her to withdraw also. He said, " Do not 
go from me, but be thou a witness of my last hours." 
After he had exhausted himself with conversation 
with his son, Mr. Hlllsius, and others, be was asked 
how he did He said, " Very well — 1 feel no pain — I 
am filled with ihe grace of God — I am not sensible 
cold or heat — 1 fear, no more, the inconveniences of 
temporal life — the Spun of God strengthens me, and 
affords me abundant consolations. I have no doubt 
of v my salvation. He hath set me on high. He hath 
hid me in his hiding place. He hath fenced me round 
about, and hath perfected whatsoever concerns me. I 
am like a vessel filled with pure water which no 
agitation troubles, it is God that justifieth me, who 
shall condemn ? It is Christ that died, yea rather is 
risen again/' * * * - () ln y God, I thank thee that 
thou hast given me the spirit of humility, sincerity 
and truth. I have not been as a tinkling cymbal. 
Lord, thou knowest the secrets of my soul, and my 
inmost thoughts. Thou hast taught me in the school 
of true doctrine, and I have above ail sought the glory 
of thy name. Lord, I wait for the moment which 
thou hast determined. I believe, I persevere, I am not 
troubled. The Spirit of God witnesseth with my 
spirit that I am a child of God." 

Though every day was expected to be his last, yet 
the strength of his constitution enabled him to hold 
out until Saturday, January 7, 1651. To the last, he 
continued to spend his whole time, when awake, in 
prayer, and in such discourses as we have recorded. 
On Thursday morning, when he saw the light cf day. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 249 

he said, "It is day-light. I shall shortly no more 
know the difference between day and night. I am 
come to the eve of that great and eternal day, and am 
going to that place, where the sun shall no more give 
light. God will be an everlasting light unto .me ; and 
already, Lord, thou sendest the rays of that light 
into my soul, and openest my eyes that I may perceive 
them. how powerfully dost thou work in me ! 
While this old man decays, thou puttest on me the new 
man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image 
of him that created it. Deliver me from this prison, 
that I may celebrate thy name ; yet neither do I so 
contemn this body, as not to think of its restoration ; 
for I know the dead shall live, yea, my dead body. It 
is sown in corruption, it shall be raised in incorruption; 
it is sown a vile body, but it will rise a glorious body ; 
it is sown in weakness, but it shall be raised again in 
power. In a word, it shall be conformed to the glorious 
body of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is become the first 
fruits of them that sleep. I shall see him in my flesh 
— mine own eyes shall see him — I shall behold his face 
in righteousness, and shall be satisfied with his like- 
ness when I awake. " The whole of this day was 
spent in such like discourses. Among other things, he 
said, "The sense of divine favour increaseth in me 
every moment. My pains are tolerable, and my joys 
inestimable. I am no more vexed with earthly cares. 
I remember when any new book came out, how earn- 
estly I have longed after it — but now all that is but 
dust. Thou art my all, Lord, my good is to ap- 
proach unto thee. 0, what a library have I in God, 
in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge ! 
Thou art the teacher of spirits — I have learned more 
divinity in these ten days that thou hast come to visit 
me, than I did in fifty years before." The last words 
he attempted to utter, were those of Paul, " I have 
fought a good fight," &c. and when others assisted him 
to finish them, he said, Amen. 



250 



THOUGHTS ON 



CHAPTER XVJII. 



Death- bed exerciaefl and Bpeechefl of the Rev. Thonwa Ha'y burton 












Having in a former chapter given an account 
Eialyburton's conversion, written by liimself, in 
imc age, n will be gratifying to the pious reader to 

,i how he ended bis cours ; and how his relij 
sustained him in the last trying conflict And I 
as iii the case of Rivet, much opportunity was given 
to this holy man to leave behind him an amp 
moiiy of the preciousness of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and of the power of divine grace to support and com- 
fort the true believer, even in the pangs of dissolu- 
tion. When first seized with mortal sickness, he 
experienced, for a while, a terrible conflict, in which 
he was afraid that his faith would fail; but his God 
was merciful and faithful to his promises, ai 
to his relief. To one who came to see him, lie said, 
" I have a great conflict, and my faith is like to fail 
that I may be kept now in this last trial, that is 
ensuing, from being an offence to God and I 
ple. M When some of his brethren came him, 

he said, " I am but young, and have but little ei| 
ence, but this death-bed now makes me old, and 
therefore I use the freedom to exhort you to faithful- 
ness in the Lord's work. You will never repent this. 
He is a good Master, I have always found him 
If I had a thousand lives, I would think them all too 
little to employ in his service.'' But for several days 
he was under a cloud, and his spiritual joys had de- 
serted him; and when a friend came in, he said, " 
what a terrible conflict I had yesterday; hut now 1 
can say, k I have fought the good light, I have kept 
the faith.' Now he has filled my mouth with a new 
song. i Jehovah Jireh, in the mount of tin 1 Lord.' 
Praise, praise is comely for the upright. Shortly 1 
shall get a different view of God from what I have 



RELIGT0TJS EXPERIENCE. 251 

ever had, and shall be more qualified to praise him 
than ever. ! the thoughts of an incarnate God aie 
sweet and ravishing. And how do I wonder at my- 
self that I do not love him more. that I could 
honour him ! What a wonder that I enjoy so much 
composure under all my bodily trouble, and in view 
of approaching death. what a mercy, that I have 
the use of my reason till I have declared his goodness 
unto me." To his wife he said, " He came to me in 
the third watch of the night, walking upon the waters, 
and he said unto me, ' I am Alpha and Omega, the 
beginning and the end. I was dead and am alive, and 
live for ever more, and have the keys of hell and 
death.' < He stilleth the tempest, and there is a 
sweet calm in my soul.' " To one who requested him 
to be careful of his health, he replied, " I'll strive to 
last as long as I can, and I'll get my rest ere it be 
long. I have no more to do with time, but carefully 
to measure it out for the glory of God." Then he 
said, "I shall see my Redeemer stand on the earth at 
the last day ; but I hope to see him before that, the 
Lamb in the midst of the throne. it will be a beau- 
tiful company, ' The spirits of just men made perfect, 
and Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant. for 
grace, grace, to be patient to the end.' " When one 
said, " Keep the light of the window from him," he 
said, " Truly light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is 
to behold the sun — the Sun of Righteousness. 
glorious light, when the Lamb is the light of the temple. 
\Y T e cannot have a conception of it now, eye hath 
not seen, nor ear heard," &c. Seeing his youngest 
child, he caused them to bring her to him, and said, 
kW Mary, my dear, the Lord bless you. The God of 
your father and of my father bless you. — The God 
that fed me all my life, the Angel that redeemed 
me from all evil, bless you and the rest, and be your 
portion. That is a goodly heritage, better than if I 
had crowns and sceptres to leave you. My child, I 
received you from him, and I give you to him again." 
To his wife he said, " Encourage yourself in the Lord 
He will keep you, even though you come into ene- 



252 THOUGHTS ON 

mies' hands, surely he will cause the enemy to treat 
you well." He then declared his willingness to part 
with his dearest relatives, and said, "Fortius is the 
practical part of religion ; to make use of it when we 
come to the strait. This is a lesson of practical divin- 
ity." When the physician came in, he addressed 
him in the following solemn and pungent langu 
" Doctor, as to this piece of work, you are nearly at an 
end with it. I wish you to lay it to heart ; death will 
come to your door also. And it is a business of great 
moment to die like a Christian ; and it is a rare th 

Christ himself has told us that there are lew thai shall 
be saved even among them who are outwardly called. 
I wish the Lord himself may show you kindn 
The greatest kindness I am now capable of showing 
yon is, to recommend serious religion to yon. Ti 
is a reality in religion, doctor, but this is an age that 

hath lost the sense of it k He has not said to the 
house (){' Jacob, seek ye my lace m vain.' Ath 

will one day see whether n be so or not. 1 bless God 
that I was educated by godly parents in the principles 
of the Church of Scotland. 1 bless him that when 
I came to riper years. I did, on mature deliberation, 
make these principles my choice. I bless the Lord, 

I have been helped ever since to adhere to them, 
without Wavering. I hless him that I have seen, that 
holiness yields peace and comfort in prosperity and 
adversity. What should I seek more, or desire more 
to give me evidence of the reality of religion? Th 
tore I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; lor 
it is the power of God unto salvation to every one 
that believeth. I am so far from altering my thoughts 
of religion by reason of the present contempt thrown 
on it, and opposition made to it, that these things 
endear it the more to me." After much more o\ 
the same kind, he said, " Well, doctor, the Lord 
with you, and persuade you to be in earnest. I 
return you thanks for your attention. " After a 
pause, he proceeded; " Every one that is in Christ 
Jesus must be a new creature : he must have union 
with Christ and a new nature. That is the ground 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 253 

work of religion. The Christian religion is little 
understood by the most of us. ! the gospel of 
Christ, how purely was it preached in this place, 
when I was at the University; though I found not 
the sweetness of it, at that time, as I have found it 
since. It has fallen on me like showers on the mown 
grass. Verily there is a reality in religion. Few 
have lively impressions of it. Now get acquaintance 
with God. The little acquaintance 1 have had with 
God these two days, has more than ten thousand 
times repaid the pains I have in all my life taken 
about religion. It is a good thing to have God to go 
to, when we are turning our face to the wall. 
6 He is known for a refuge in the palaces of Zion. a 
very present help in trouble.' 0! there is a strange 
hardness in the heart of man." 

To his children, he said, "My children, I have no- 
thing to say to you, but that ye be seekers of God. 
Fulfil my joy. Alas! that I was so long in beginning 
to seek God! and yet I was touched with convictions 
that God was seeking me, before I arrived at the 
years of some of you." To his eldest daughter he 
said, "Margaret, you seem sometimes to have con- 
victions; beware of them — they are the most danger- 
ous things you ever meddled with : for although you 
may seek not God, every one of them is God's messen- 
ger; and if you despise God's messenger, he will be 
avenged on you. My dear, seek the Lord, and be 
your mother's comfort." 

He requested that the 138th of Mr. Rutherford's 
letters should be read to him, and then said, " This is 
a book I would recommend to you all; there is more 
practical religion in that letter, than in some large 
volumes." 

When the three ministers of the place came to see 
him, he addressed them with great fidelity and affec- 
tion: — "Dear brethren, it is not from any confidence 
in myself, but out of a sincere love to you, and from 
what I myself have experienced, that for your encou- 
ragement I presume to say, wh^n the Lord helped 
me to diligence in studying and meditating, I found 

22 



254 



THOUGHTS ON 



him then remarkably shining upon me, and testifying 
his approbation of a sincere mind. There is nothing 
to be had with a slack hand." And to one of them 
who had recently entered the ministry, " Your entry 
into the ministry, is likely to fall on an evil day; but 
there is one thing for your encouragement : you have 
a call. The times will make hard work tor yon in 
this place; but that which makes your work the 
harder is, that the people are hardened under a long 
course of pure gospel ordinances. However, 
faithful, and God will strengthen his own work. 1 
will not say that you wiil gel things brought to the 
State you would desire; but I'll tell you I have one 
thought, and I'll abide by it, it' ministers will ply 
their work, though they cannot bring sinners to the 
Lord, they may make their consciences, that a prophet 
has been among them, speak' for the Lord, whether 
they will or not." 

" Now, brethren, give diligence, hold fast what 
have. I must say a word unto my brethren, it is on 
my heart, i am young, hut I am near the end of my 
t ife, and that makes me old. It becomes me to take 
advice from you. however, I only wish to exhort you 
to diligence in the common salvation. — I repent I did 
no more, but I have peace m reflecting that what I 
did, I did sincerely. He accepts of the mite. It was 
the delight of my heart to preach the gospel, and it 
made me sometimes neglect a trail body. I I 
thought if I could contribute to the saving of a soul, 
it would he to me a star, a crown — a glorious crown. 
I know this was the tiling that I aimed at — I desired 
to decrease, that the bridegroom might increase ; and 
fo be nothing, that He might he all, and I rejoice in 
his exaltation." To two ministers who came from 
the country, he said, " Brethren, we have need to 
take care, with the great apostle, lest when we have 
preached Christ to others, we ourselves should be cast- 
aways. We have need to tear, lest it be so. Happy 
is the man that feareth always. Be diligent in preach- 
ing the gospel — let it be your care not only to be dili- 
gent in composing sermons, but, above all, to scan 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 255 

your own hearts, to enable you to dive into consciences, 
to awaken hypocrites, and to separate the precious 
from the vile — and to do it with such accuracy as not 
to make sad the hearts of those whom God would have 
made glad. The great point in religion, and in the 
management of your ministry, is, that you may ob- 
tain the testimony of the great Shepherd, when he 
shall appear. As to the work of ihe ministry, it was 
my delight and my deliberate choice : and were my days 
lengthened out much more, and the times as trouble- 
some as they are likely to be, I would rather be a con- 
temned minister of God, than the greatest prince on 
earth. I preached the gospel of Christ with pleasure, 
and loved it, for my own soul's salvation was upon it; 
and since I lay down, I have not changed my thoughts 
about it. I commend it to you all to double your dili- 
gence. There may be hard conflicts ; you have a pros- 
pect of difficulties between you and the grave. We 
all appear good when untried, but we have need tc 
have on the whole armour of God, to watch and be 
sober." 

To his successor in the parish which he had served 
before he came to the University, he said, "I have 
this to say, as to my congregation, that people were 
my choice. With much peace and pleasure I preach- 
ed as I could, though not as I should, the gospel of 
Jesus Christ. Though, in all things, I own myself to 
have sinned exceedingly before the Lord, yet. I have 
the consolation that I anxiously aimed at leading 
them to the Lord Jesus, and another foundation can 
no man lay. I hope you will build on that same 
foundation, for, as you will in that way save your 
own soul, so it is the way to save them that hear you. 
From experience I can say, that the pursuing this 
sincerely, is the way of salvation. Signify to them, 
that if it please the Lord to take me away, I die, 
rejoicing in the faith, and in the profession of what I 
preached to them, under a low state of body; and, 
that without this I could have no comfort. I would 
have my people understand, that the gospel which ] 
recommended to them, if not received, will be a wit 



256 THOUGHTS ON 

ness against them." His successor remarked, " I am 
persuaded you have seals to your ministry in that 
parish." He answered, " we are like our Master, 
for the fall and rising again of many, though we can 
do no. more; if we are faithful, they shall know that a 
prophet has been among them/ 5 

Mr. Halyburton conversed much with his friends, 
and most of his discourses have hem preserved, hut 
we have only room lor a small part of what he uttered 
on his death-bed. A specimen, however, will serve 
to show the spirit of the man, and the state of his 
mind, as well as the whole. There are still some of 
his dying speeches so excellent, thai I cannot think 

that their insertion will appear tedious to the pious 

reader. But besides his discourses with his friends 

and visiters, he drew up a paper in the form i)( a last 

will or testimony, in which he gives at large, his 

views o( doctrine and worship. The whole of this 
paper is highly worthy of attention, hut we can only 
insert the following extract : 

"Every thing m God's way and in his word is 
glorious, honourable, and like himself. He n< 
none of our testimonies; hut it is the least that we 
can do to signify our wishes to have his prais 
brated. And I, being so many ways obliged, take 
this solemn occasion to acknowledge, before I 1< 
the world, these, among my other innumerable 
obligations; and I desire to bequeath this as my last, 
best legacy, to my family, even my serious and solemn 
advice, that they should make choice of God tor their 
God. He has been my lather's God: the God both 
of my wife's predecessors and mine ; and he has been, 
we hope, our God; and I recommend him to my 
children, for their God ; solemnly charging them, even 
all of them, as they will be answerable on the great 
day, to make it their first care, to seek after peace 
with God, and reconciliation through Christ crucified : 
and being reconciled, to make it their constant care 
to please him in all things. I beseech them with all 
the bowels of a father, as they love their souls, that 
they sit not down short of a saving acquaintance with 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 257 

him ; that they wait diligently upon the means of 
grace, and attend the worship of God in all duties, 
especially secret and family duties, and that they 
carefully attend public ordinances. Beware of con 
tenting yourselves with the mere form of these duties, 
but cry to the Lord for communion with Him in them ; 
and for the outpouring of the Spirit, whereby ye may 
be enabled to worship God who is a Spirit, in spirit. 
It is my charge to you, and that in which I am more 
concerned than in any thing relating to you, that you 
follow him fully", without turning to the right hand, 
or to the left. In this way I dare promise you bless- 
edness. If you follow this way, I do bless you all, 
and pray that He who blesses and they are bless- 
ed, may bless you all. I have, often as I could, 
devoted all of you to God ; and there is nothing I 
have so much at heart, as that ye may indeed be the 
Lord's. And if ye turn aside from this way, I would 
have this be a standing witness against you, in the 
day of the Lord. ! that God himself by his grace, 
may, in a day of his power, determine your tender 
hearts to seek him early; for then will He be a good 
portion unto you." 

When some people came in to see him, he said, 
* For these fourteen or fifteen years, I have been 
studying the promises ; but I have seen more of the 
book of God this night, than in all that time. the 
wisdom that is laid up in the book of God ! I know, 
a great deal that comes from a dying man will go for 
canting and raving, but I bless God, that he has pre- 
served to me the little judgment that I had, and I 
have been enabled, with composure, to reflect on his 
dealing with me. I am sober and composed, if 1 
ever was so. And whether men will hear or forbear, 
this is my testimony. The operations of the Spirit 
of God, are ridiculed in this day ; but if we take away 
the operations and influences of the Spirit of God, 
in religion, I know not what is left. He promised 
the Spirit to lead us into all truth. ! that this gene- 
ration would awake to seek after the quickening 
influences of the Spirit. 0! for a day of the down- 

22* 



25S THOUGH i - ON 

pouring of the Spirit from on high, in a work of con- 
version ! — Far such a day as that, when the Spirit of 
God effectually reached our fathers, and brought forth 
great men, and caused others to be conquered by them! 
'The residue of the Spirit is with him.' " 

The state of the church was much on his mind, 
and he was greatly concerned for Scotland, lest a 
dry, formal, and merely rational religion should pre- 
vail ; of which he saw some symptoms. He 
pressed also strong apprehensions thai the judgments 
of God were about to be inflicted* on Ins country. 
The welfare of his pupils also engaged much of his 
attention. He often expressed a desire to have them 
around him, that he might give them one practical 

Lecture from his death-bed. But as this could not 

h-' done, it being vacation, he dictated a letter to the 
students of theology, in which he gives them solemn 
and useful advice. He recommended to them the 
perusal of the writings o( the great Dr. Owen; but 
immediately added, •• Bui the word o[ God, in depen- 
dence on the Spirit o\ God, must he your study and 
meditation, day and night Words cannot expi 
what I hive found of God, since I came to this 
bed of languishing. I am hold to recommend to 
you this work', as the most noble, honourable, and 
advantageous you can be employed in. And 1 
am this day sure, from experience, that it is better 
to serve the Lord in the gospel of Ins Son, than to 
serve the greatest princes on earth, in the highest 
station. If God help you in this service, the reward 
is too great to be expressed. My thoughts, my words 
are swallowed up, and my affection toward you is 
such, that my body would quite sink to speak what is 
in my heart, of love to you, and desire to have you 
acquainted with my dearest Lord, to whom I was 
always deeply obliged, but am now so much indebted 
that I fear to mention how good he has been to my 
soul. ! choose him — cleave to him — serve him — 
study to know him more and more — live in communion 
with him. Never rest until you reach eternal com- 
munion with him. I have desired my brother-in-law 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 259 

to sign this in my name. I wish nothing more than 
that when you have done much service to the church 
here, I may have the happiness of hearing you ap- 
proved by the Great Shepherd." 

As his disease was a pulmonary consumption, he 
lasted long, and retained the uninterrupted exercise of 
his reason, and after the first severe conflict, of which 
mention was made, he enjoyed peace and joy without 
intermission, and manifested in various ways, and 
particularly by his heavenly discourse, the power of 
divine grace, and the eminence of that faith in Christ, 
by which he was so remarkably supported to the end. 
He lost no opportunity of seeking to benefit all who 
approached him, and often addressed himself to his 
wife and children individually, in the most tender and 
earnest manner. And as many ministers came to see 
him, he exercised great fidelity in his solemn exhorta- 
tions to them, to be diligent and faithful in the work 
of the Lord. At length the powers of nature were 
exhausted, and for some days he was in a dying state. 
Among his last words were, "Free grace, free grace — 
not unto me." And when his speech had utterly 
failed, when one said, " I hope you are encouraging 
yourself in the Lord," he lifted up his hands and clap 
ped them. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Dying Experience of Mr. John Janeway, the Rev. Edward Payson, and 
Rev. Samuel Finley, D. D. 

Mr. Janeway was a young man who had just enter- 
ed the holy ministry, when he was called away, and 
exchanged earth for heaven. He was never permit- 
ted to preach more than two sermons, before his lungs 
were so affected, that he was obliged to cease from his 
earthly labours. During his last days, he was absorb 
ed in the contemplation of Christ and heaven. His 



260 THOUGHTS ON 

meditations, his discourses, his whole deportment, 
made it evident, thai he was ripening for glory. 1 1 is 
faith had grown up to a full assurance, and he often 

feasted on the rich provisions of God's house, and 
enjoyed many foretastes of future blessedi The 

Lord often called him up to the mount and let him 
sec; his glory. In the midst o\' earthly comforts, he 
tonged for death, and his thoughts o\ the day of judg- 
ment were refreshing to him. He would say, " What 
if the day of judgment were come, even this hour? I 
would be glad with all my heart. I should behold 
such lightnings, and hear such thunderings as Israel 
did at tin; mount, and I am persuaded, my heart 
would leap tor joy. The meditation of that day, 
hath even ravished my soul; and the thoughts of its 
certainty and nearness, are more refreshing to my 
soul, than all earthly comforts. Surely nothing can 
more revive my spirit, than to behold the hie 
.JestlS, who is the life and joy of my soul/' Wheu 
he began to sink rapidly under his complaint, his soul 

was so devoutly occupied in the contemplation o[ 

Christ and heaven, that he almost forgot his pains and 
sickness. I lis faith, his love, and his joy, exceedingly 
abounded. He would frequently exclaim, ••()! that 
1 could let you know what I feel! 0! that I could 
show you what 1 now see ! 0! that [ COIlId expi 

the thousandth part of that sweetness which I now 
find in Christ ! You would then all think it worth 
while to make religion your chief business, 0! my 

dear friends, you little think what Christ is worth 
upon a death-hed. I would not now for a world, 
nay, for a million oi worlds, be without Christ and 
pardon. I would not for a world live any long 
and the very thought of a possibility of recovery, 
makes me tremble. I do tell you, that I so long to 
be with Christ, that I could be content to he cut in 
pieces, and put to the most exquisite tortures, so I 
might die and be with Christ ! how sweet Jesus 
is. 'Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.' Death do thy 
worst. Death has lost its terrors. Through grace, I 
can say, death is nothing to me. I can as easily die 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 2^\ 

as shut my eyes. I long to die — I long to be with 
Christ/"' He charged his friends most earnestly, not 
to pray for his life. w O! the glory, the unspeakable 
glory which I behold — my heart is full — my heart 
full. Christ smiles, and I am constrained to smile. 
Can you find it in your hearts to stop me, now I am 
going to the complete and eternal enjoyment of Chi 
Would you keep me from my crown? The arm- of 
my blessed Saviour are open to receive me. 
angels stand ready to carry my soul into his bosom. 
0! did you see but what I see, you would cry out 
with me, < Dear Lord, how long.' 'Come. Lord 
come quickly/ '0! why are thy chariot wi 
long in coming?' " A minister having spoken to him 
of the joys of heaven, he said, " Sir, I feel something 
of it. My heart is as full as it can hold in this lo 
state. I can hold no more. ! that I could but let 
you know what I feel. Who am I, Lord, who am I, 
that thou shouldst be mindful of me? Why me 3 L 
why me? and pass by thousands to look on 
wretch as I ? 0! what shall I say unto thee, thou 
Preserver of men? ! blessed, and for ever bles 
be free grace. Why is it, Lord, that thou shouldest 
manifest thyself unto me and not to other-: 'Even 
so, Father, because' it seemed good in thy sight.' Thou 
wilt have mercy, because thou wilt have mercy. And 
if thou wilt look on such a worm, who can hint;- 
Who would not love thee, blessed Father? ! how 
sweet and gracious hast thou been to me ! ! that 
He should have me in his thoughts before the founda- 
tion of the world. " 

On one occasion, after his brother had been praying 
with him, his joys became unutterable ; he broke out 
in such exclamations as these, " ! He is come — He 
is come — how sweet, how glorious, is the blessed 
Jesus ! He is altogether lovely. How shall I speak 
the thousandth part of his praise ? ! for words to 
set forth a little part of his excellency ! Come look 
on a dying man and wonder. Was there ever greater 
kindness ? Were there ever more sensible manifesta 
tions of grace ? ! why me, Lord, why me ? Surely 



862 THOUGHTS ON 

this is akin to heaven, and it I were never to enjoy 
more than this, it is more than a sufficient recompense 
for all that men and devils could inflict. If this be 
dying, it is sweet. The bed is soft. Christ's arms, and 
smiles, and love, surely would turn hell into heaven. 

! that you did but see and feel what I do. Behold a 
dying man, more cheerful than you ever saw a man in 
health, in the midst of his sweetest worldly enjoy- 
ments. 0! sirs, worldly pleasures are poor, pitiful, 
sorry things, when compared with this glory in my 
soul." lie often exhorted those around him to as 
him in his praises. " !" said he, " help me to praise 
God. Henceforth, through eternity, I have nothing 
else to do hut to love and praise the Lord. I cannot 
tell what to pray lor. which is not already u r iven in-'. 
J want only on- 1 thing, and that is, a speedy hit to 
heaven. I expect no more here. I desire no more — 

1 can bear no more. 0! praise, praise, praise that 
boundless love which hath wonderfully looked upon 
my soul, and hath done more lor me, than for thou- 
sands of his children. Bl ess the Lord. my soul, and 
all that is within me bless his holy name. my 
friends, help me, help me, to admire and praise Him 
who hath done such astonishing wonders for my soul. 
lie hath pardoned all my sins and' filled me with his 
goodness, lie hath given me grace and glory, and no 
good thing hath lb* withheld from me. All ye mighty 
angels, help me to praise God. Let every thing that 
hath beimr help me to praise Him. Praise is my work- 
now, and will be my work for ever. Hallelujah, Hal- 
lelujah, Hallelujah!" 

A tew hours before his death he had bis mother 
and brothers and sisters called around his bed, when 
in a most solemn and affecting manner, he addres 
himself in turn to each, and took leave of them. To 
his mother he offered his thanks for her tender love, 
and expressed his desire that she might see Christ 
formed in the hearts of all her children, and m*»H 
them all with joy at the day of judgment Then he 
took his brothers and sisters in order, and offered an 
appropriate petition for each. He then said. "0 1 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 263 

(hat none of us may be found among the unconverted 
in the day of judgment ! ! that we may all appear 
with our honoured father and dear mother, before 
Christ with joy. ! that we may live to God here, 
and live with God hereafter. And now, my dear 
mother, brothers, and sisters, farewell!" His last 
words were, " Thy work is done — I have fought a 
good fight," &c. " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. " 
After which he immediately expired. 

No man, in our country, has left behind him a 
higher character for eminent piety, than the Rev. 
Sdward Payson. His views and exercises, when 
near death, will answer well to be placed by the side 
of those of Mr. John Janeway. 

When this faithful pastor found that his end was 
approaching, he felt a strong desire to address some 
advice to his flock. He therefore had it announced 
from the pulpit, that he would be pleased to see as 
many of them as could make it convenient to come to 
his house, and appointed them a time. To them, when 
assembled, he spake nearly as follows: "It has often 
been remarked that people who have gone to the 
other world, cannot come back to tell us what they 
have seen ; but I am so near the eternal world, that I 
can see almost as clearly, as if I were there; and I 
see enough to satisfy myself, at least, of the truth of 
the doctrines which I have preached. I do not know 
that I should feel at all surer had I been there. It is 
always interesting to see others in a situation in which 
we know we must shortly be placed ourselves; and 
we all know that we must die. And to see a poor 
creature, when, after an alternation of hopes and fears, 
he finds that his disease is mortal, and death comes to 
fear him away from every thing he loves, and crowds 
him to the very verge of the precipice of destruction, 
and then thrusts him down headlong; — there he is 
cast into an unknown world ; no friend, no Saviour 
to receive him: — 0! how different is this, from the 
state of a man who is prepared to die ! He is not 
obliged to be crowded along, but the other world 
comes like a great magnet to draw him away from 



264 THOUGHTS ON 

ihis ; and he knows that he is going to enjoy — and 
not only knows but begins to taste it — perfect happi- 
ness, for ever, for ever, aud ever. And now God is 
in this room. 1 see Him! and 0! how unspeakably 
lovely and glorious does he appear! worthy of ten 
thousand hearts, if we had so many. He is here, and 
hears me pleading with the creatures that he has 
made, whom he preserves and loads with blessii 
lo love him. And how terrible does it appear to 
me to sin against this God — to set up our wills in 
opposition to Ins. It makes my blood rim cold to 
think how miserable I should now be without reli 
gion. To lie here and sec myself tottering on the 
verge of destruction, — 0! I should he distracted. And 
when I see my fellow creatures in this situation, 1 

am in an agony for them, that they may escape the 

danger before u be too hue. Suppose we should 

hear ihe sound of some one pleading earnestly with 
another, and we should impure. What is that man 
pleading lor so earnestly? ()! he is only ple;idmu r 
with a fellow creature, to love his God, Ins Saviour, 
his Preserver, his Benefactor. He is only pleading 
witli him. not to throw away his immortal soul ; not 
to pull down everlasting wretchedness on his own 
head. He is only persuading him to avoid eternal 
misery and accept eternal happiness. ^ Is it possible, 1 
we should exclaim, k that any persuasion can be neces- 
sary for this?' And yet it is necessary. 0! my friends! 
do, dn love this glorious Being. Do seek for the salva- 
tion of your immortal souls. Hear the voice of your 
dying minister, while he entreats you to care for your 
souls," 

()\\ another occasion, he said, " I find satisfaction in 
looking at nothing that I have done. I have not 
fought, but Christ has fought for me. I have not 
run, but Christ has carried me. I have not worked. 
but Christ has wrought in me. Christ has done all." 
The perfections of God were to him a well-spring of 
joy, and the promises were breasts of consolation, 
whence his soul drew aliment and comfort. "0!" 
exclaimed he, " the loving kindness of God. His »ov- 









RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 265 

mg kindness ! This afternoon, while I was meditating, 
the Lord seemed to pass by and proclaim himself, 
'The Lord God, merciful and gracious.' < how 
gracious !' Try to conceive of that — 'his loving kind- 
ness,' as if it were not enough to say kindness , but 
loving kindness! What must be the loving kindness 
of the Lord who is himself infinite in love? It seem- 
ed, as if Christ had said to me, < You have often wan- 
dered, and been impatient of the way, by which I 
have led you; but what do you think of it now?' 
And I was cut to the heart, when I looked back and 
saw the goodness by which I had been guided, that I 
could ever for a moment distrust his love. ,, 

To a minister who called upon him, he said, "That 
the puint in which he believed ministers failed most, 
and in which he had certainly failed most, was in doing 
duty professionally, and not from the heart." He said 
also, " I have never valued as I ought, the doctrines 
which I have preached. The system is great and glo- 
rious, and is worthy of our utmost efforts to promote 
it. The interests depending will justify us in our 
strongest measures. In every respect we may embark 
our all upon it; it will sustain us." — " I was never fit 
to say a word to a sinner, except when I had a broken 
heart myself; when I was subdued and melted into 
penitence, and felt just as if I had received pardon to 
my own soul ; and when my heart was full of tender- 
ness and pity." He seemed to be greatly affected 
with a view of the grace of God, in saving lost men; 
and especially, that it should be bestowed on one so 
ill-deserving as himself. "0 how sovereign ! how 
sovereign ! Grace is the only thing that can make 
us like God. I might be dragged through heaven, 
earth, and hell, and I should still be the same sinful, 
polluted wretch, unless God himself should renew and 
cleanse me." 

In conversation with his eldest daughter, being asked 
whether self-examination was not a very difficult duty 
for young Christians, " Yes," he replied, " and for old 
ones, too ; because it is displeasing to the pride of 
the heart, because wandering thoughts are then most 

23 



266 THOUGHTS ON 

apt to intrude, and because of the deeeitfulness of th> 
heart. When a Christian first looks into his heart, he 
sees nothing but confusion — a heap of sins, and very 
little good, mixed up together; and he knows not 
how to separate them, or how to begin self-examina- 
tion. But let him persevere in his efforts, and order 
will arise out of confusion." She mentioned to him 
a passage in the life of Alleine, which led him to say, 
"We never confess any faults that we really think 
disgraceful. We complain of our hardness of heart, 
stupidity, &c . but we never confess envy, covetous- 
ness, and revenge, or any thing that we suppose will 
lower us in the opinion of others; and this pr< 
that we do not feel ashamed of coldness and stupidity. 
In short, when young Christians make confessions, 
unless there is an obvious call lor it, it commonly 
proceeds from one of the following motives: either 
they wish to be thought very humble, and to poss 
great knowledge of their own hearts; or they think 
it is a fault which the other has perceived, and they 
are willing to have the credit of having discovered, 
and striven against it; or they confess some fault from 
which they are remarkably free, in order to elicit a 
compliment/ 9 

His solicitude for the welfare of his people was so 
great, that though he had given them one solemn 
address, he was not contented with that, but sent for 
particular classes of them. On one day, he had the 
young men of the congregation assembled around 
him, when he delivered to them a peculiarly solemn, 
tender, and appropriate exhortation. He also s 
an affectionate valedictory address to the Association 
of ministers with whom he had been connected. The 
substance of it was, " A hearty assurance of the in- 
dent love with which he remembered them even in 
death — an exhortation to love one another with a 
pure heart fervently — to love their work — to hi 1 
diligent in it — to expect success, and to bear up under 
discouragements — to be faithful unto death, and to look 
for their reward in Heaven." 

While speaking of the rapturous views which he 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 267 

had of heaven, he was asked if did not appear like 
the clear light of vision, rather than that of faith. He 
said, " I don't know — it is too much for the poor eyes 
of my soul to bear — they are almost blinded with the 
excessive brightness. All I want is, to be a mirror, 
to reflect some of those rays to those around me." — 
" My soul, instead of growing weaker and more lan- 
guishing, as my body does, seems to be endued with 
an angel's energies, and to be ready to break from 
the body, and join those around the throne." When 
asked, whether it was now incredible to him, thai the 
martyrs should rejoice in the flames and on the rack, 
" No," said he, " I can easily believe it. I have suf- 
fered twenty times as much as I could in being burnt 
at the stake, while my joy in God so abounded, as to 
render my sufferings not only tolerable, but welcome. 
The sufferings of this present time are not worthy tc 
be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in 
us." At another time, he said, " God is now literally 
my all in all. While He is present with me, no event 
can in the least diminish my happiness ; and were the 
whole world at my feet, trying to minister to my 
comfort, they could not add one drop to the cup." 
" It seems as if the promise to wipe away all tears, is 
already accomplished, as it relates to tears of sorrow. 
I have no tears to shed now but tears of love, and 
joy, and thankfulness." Shortly before his decease, 
he was heard to break forth in a soliloquy, of which 
the following is a specimen : — " What an assemblage 
of motives to holiness, does the gospel present ? I 
am a Christian ; what then ? I am a redeemed sinner 
— a pardoned rebel — all through grace, and by the 
most wonderful means which infinite wisdom could 
devise. I am a Christian ; what then ? Why I am a 
temple of God, and surely I ought to be pure and 
holy. I am a Christian ; what then ? Why I am a 
child of God, and ought to be filled with filial lore 
and reverence, joy, and gratitude. I am a Christian : 
what then ? Why I am a disciple of Christ, and must 
imitate him who was meek and lowly of heart, and 
pleased not himself. I am a Christian. — What then? 






268 THOUGHTS ON 

Why I am an heir of heaven, and hastening on to the 
abodes of the blessed." "It seems as if my soul had 
found a pair of new wings, and was so eager to try 
them, that ill her fluttering she would rend the line 
net-work of the body to pieces." He had the choir to 
come in and sing for him, and chose the hymn, u /. 
my soul" &c. Soon after which he expired, October 
21, 1827. 

The Rev. Dr. Samuel Finley, who had been for 
some time President of New Jersey College, upon 
being informed by his physicians that his disease was 
incurable, expressed his entire resignation, and ex- 
claimed, "Welcome, Lord Jesus." On the Sabbath 
preceding his death, Dr. Clarkson, one of his physi- 
cians, told him that he observed a manifest alteration, 
and that he could not live many days. He said, u may 
the Lord bring me near himself! I have been waiting 
with a Canaan hanger for the promised land. I have 
often wondered that Bod Buffered me to live. I have 
more wondered that he ever called me to be a minister 
of his word. He lias often afforded me much strength 
which I have abused. He has returned in mercy. 
O how faithful are the promises of God! that I 
could see him as I have Been him before, in his sanc- 
tuary. Although I have as earnestly desired death, 
as the hireling pants for the evening shade, yet will I 
wait all the days of my appointed tune. I have often 
struggled with principalities and powers, and have 
been brought to the borders of despair. Lord, let it 
suffice. " He then closed his eyes and sat up and 
prayed fervently that God would show him his glory, 
before he departed hence; that he would enable him 
to endure patiently to the end — and, particularly, 
that he might be kept from dishonouring the minis- 
try. He then resumed his discourse, and said, "I 
can truly say that I have loved the service of God. I 
know not in what language to speak of my own un- 
worthiness — I have been undutiful — I have honestly 
endeavoured to act for God, but with much weaki 
and corruption." Then lying down again, he said, 
"a Christian's death is the best part of his experience. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 269 

The Lord lias made provision for the whole way; pro- 
vision for the soul, and provision for the body. The 
Lord has given me many souls, as the crown of my 
rejoicing. Blessed be God — eternal rest is at hand. 
Eternity is but long enough to enjoy my God. This, 
this has animated me in my severest studies. I was 
ashamed to take rest here. ! that I could be filled 
with the fulness of God ! that fulness which fills hea- 
ven." Being asked whether he would choose to live 
or die, he said, "To die, though I cannot but feel the 
same strait that Paul did when he knew not which to 
choose. < For me to live is Christ — but to die is 
gain? But should God, by a miracle, prolong my 
life, I would still continue to serve him. His service 
has been sweet to me. I have loved it much. I 
have tried my Master's yoke, and will never shrink 
my neck from it. His yoke is easy, and his burden 
is light!" One said to him, "You are more cheerful 
and vigorous, sir." "Yes, I rise or fall, as eternal 
life seems nearer or further off." It being remarked 
that he always used the appellation, "dear Lord," in 
his prayers, he answered, " ! he is very dear ! very 
precious, indeed. How pretty is it for a minister to 
die on the Sabbath I I expect to spend the remaindei 
of this Sabbath in heaven." One said, "You will 
soon join the blessed society of heaven — you will for 
ever hold converse with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 
and with the spirits of the just made perfect — with 
old friends, and many old fashioned people." "Yes 
sir," he replied, with a smile, " but they are a most 
polite people now." He expressed great gratitude 
to his friends around him, and said, " may the Lord 
repay you for your tenderness to me ! may he bless 
you abundantly, not only with temporal, but with 
spiritual blessings." Turning to his wife, he said, 
" My dear, I expect to see you shortly in glory." 
Seeing a member of the Second Presbyterian Church 
present, he said, " I have often preached and prayed 
among you, my dear sir, and the doctrines I preached 
are now my support, and, blessed be God, they are 
without a flaw. May the Lord bless and pieserve 

23* 



270 THOUGHTS ON 

your church! He designs good for it yet, I trust.' 1 
To a person from Princeton he said, "give my love 
to the people of Princeton, and tell them that I am 
going to die, and that I am not afraid to die." 

He would sometimes cry out, "the Lord Jesus will 
take care of his cause in the world." Upon waking, 
next morning, he exclaimed, " what a disappoint- 
ment I have met with — I expected this morning to 
have been in heaven." On account of bis extreme 
weakness, he was unable to speak much during the 
day, but all that he said was in the I of 

triumph. Next morning, with a pleasing smile on 
his countenance, be cried out, - I shall triumph 
over every lnt* — the Lord hath given me the victory. 
Now I know that it is impossible that faith should 

not triumph over earth and hell — I exult — I triumph. 
that I could see untainted purity! I think I have 
nothing to do hut die — yet, perhaps, I have — Lord, 
show me my task." lie then said, - Lord Jesus, into 
thy hands I commit my spirit — I do ii with confidence 
— I do it with full assurance. I know that thou wilt 
keep that which I have committed to thee. I b 
been dreaming too last of the time of my departure, 

for I find it does not yet come — but the Lord is faith- 
ful, and will not tarry beyond the appointed time." 

In the afternoon, the Rev. Mr. Spencer came to 
t*ee him, and said, - I have come, dear sir, to see you 
confirm by facts, the gospel you have been preach- 
ing. Pray, sir, how do you feel i" To which he re- 
plied, "Full of triumph — I triumph through Christ. 
Nothing clips my wings but the thoughts oi my dis- 
solution being prolonged — that it were to night ! 
My very soul thirsts for eternal rest." Mr. Spencei 
asked him what he saw in eternity to excite such 
vehement desires in his soul. He said, " I see the 
eternal love and goodness of God. I see the fulness 
of the Mediator. I see the leve of Jesus. to be 
dissolved and to be with him! I long to be clothed 
with the complete righteousness of Christ." He then 
requested Mr. Spencer to pray with him before they 
parted, and said, " I have gained the victory over the 



RELIGIOUS KXPEK1ENCE. 271 

devil ; pray to God to preserve me from evil, to keep 
me from evil in this critical hour; and to support me 
with his presence through the valley of the shadow of 
death." 

He spent the remainder of the day, in taking an 
affectionate and solemn leave of his friends, and ex- 
horting such of his children as were with him. 

On the next day, July 16, the conflict was termin- 
ated. He was no longer able to speak, but a friend 
having desired him to give a token by which his 
friends might know, whether he still continueu to tri- 
umph, he lifted up his hand, and uttered the word 
" Yes." About nine o'clock, he fell into a sound sleep, 
and appeared much more free from pain than he had 
been for many days before. He continued to sleep, 
without changing his position, till about one o'clock, 
when he expired, without a groan or a sigh. During 
his whole sickness he was never heard to utter a repin- 
ing word; and in taking leave of his dearest friends, 
he was never seen to shed a tear, or exhibit any sign 
of sorrow. 

His remains were interred in the Second Presbyte- 
rian Church, on the corner of Mulberry or Arch and 
Third streets ; by the side of his dear friend, the Rev. 
Gilbert Tennent. From this resting place, their dust 
and bones were removed to the burying ground on 
Arch street, when the church was removed. Mrs. 
Finley survived her husband many years, the latter 
part of which time she was entirely blind; but bore 
the affliction with meek and cheerful submission. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Remarks on Death-bed Exercises, with several illustrative examples 

The cases of religious experience, at the close of life 
which have been presented to the reader, furnish 
much reason for encouragement and hope to the reaj 
Christian. We learn from them, that death, howevei 



272 THOUGHTS ON 

terrible to nature, may be completely divested of its 
terrors; that the Christian religion when it has been 
cordially embraced, has power to sustain the soul in 
the last conflict; that the supplies of grace may be so 
rich and abundant, that the bed of death may be the 
happiest situation which the child of God ever occu- 
pied, and his last hours the most comfortable of his 
whole life ; that it is possible for such a flood of divine 
consolation to be poured into the soul, that the pains 
of the body are scarcely felt; by which we may un- 
derstand how it was that the martyrs could rejoice in 
the midst of flames, and on the rack. We learn, also, 
that these blessed communications of the joy of the 
Holy Ghost, are derived to the soul, through the pro- 
mises of (iod: and that all that is necessary to fill 
it with these divine consolations, is a linn and \\\ 
faith. There is, in all these extatic and triumphant 
feelings, nothing miraculous; nothing different from 
the common mode of God's dealing with his people, 
exeept in the degree. The things of eternity 
more clearly apprehended : confidence in the prom 
is more unshaken; submission to the will of (iod is 
more unreserved, and gratitude for his goodness more 
fervent. Another 1 1 1 i n lt suggested by such happy 
death-bed exercises, is, that the dyiiiL r saint never 
entertained a more humble sense of his own unwor- 
thiness, than during this season of the anticipation 
of the joys of heaven. These experiences, therefore, 
furnish strong evidence of the truth of the doctrines 
of grace; indeed, free grace is the predominant theme 
in the minds of these highly favoured servants of 
God. It is also highly worthy of our marked atten- 
tion, that the Lord Jesus Christ is precious to the 
dying believer, in proportion as his consolations abound. 
He attributes all that he enjoys, or hopes for, to this 
blessed Redeemer. And He who loved him, and died 
for him, is most faithful to his gracious promises, at 
this trying moment. Now, when heart and flesh fail, 
He will be the strength of their hearts. Now, he 
enables them to say, with confidence, " Though 1 
*valk through the valley and shadow of death, I will 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 273 

fear no evil, for thou art with me ; thy rod and staff 
comfort me." Death is, indeed, a formidable enemy 
when armed with his envenomed sting; but when 
this sting is extracted, death is harmless ; death comes 
as a friend to release us from a body of sin and mise- 
ry. " The sting of death is sin, and the strength of 
sin is the law ;" but when the law has received a full 
satisfaction, and all sin is pardoned through the blood 
of Christ, the sting exists no longer. There is no 
condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus. It is 
God that justifieth, who is he that condemneth? It is 
Christ that died ; yea, rather who is risen again. 
"Precious in the sight of God is the death of his 
saints." The meek shall sing even on a dying bed. 
Here, often, the timid grow bold ; the feeble strong. 
Here doubts and fears which harassed the weary pil- 
grim, all the journey through, are dismissed for ever ; 
and that joyful assurance is realized, which had long 
been ardently desired and hoped for. Where else, but 
among real Christians, do we witness such happy 
scenes, at the near approach of death ? Can the infidel 
point to any of his associates, who could thus exult in 
the prospect of death? Can the man of the world 
exhibit any thing like this? Alas! they are driven 
away from all jhey love : they may die stupidly; they 
may be under an awful, blinding delusion ; but the 
positive joys of the believer, they cannot experience. 
Now, as we must all die, and that soon, ought we not 
to take all pains, and use all possible diligence, to be 
ready to die the death of the righteous ? When that 
awful hour shall arrive, worldly honours, and worldly 
possessions will be nothing to us. Royal sceptres and 
crowns, and treasures, will be utterly unavailing; but 
the humble believer, however racked with pain of body, 
is safe in the hands of a kind Redeemer, who having 
himself experienced the pangs of death, knows how 
to sympathize with and succour his beloved disciples, 
when they are called to this last trial. He will not 
then forsake those whom he has supported through 
their whole pilgrimage. His everlasting arms of love 
and faithfulness will be placed underneath them, and 



274 THOUGHTS ON 

he will bear them as on eagles 1 wines. Truly, then, 
for them to die, is gain ! They rest from their labours, 
exchange darkness, sin, and sorrow, for perfect IL r ht, 
perfect purity, and perfect felicity. Lift up your lie 
then, ye servants of God, for the day of your redemp- 
tion drawetb nigh. The night is far spent, the day is 
at hand. With some of us, it must be near the dawn. 
The darkness will soon be past forever. Let us then 
rejoice in the hope of the glory of God, and wait till 
our salvation cometh Now is our salvation nearer 
than when we believed. 

Hut, it may be asked, do all real Christians die in 
such joy and triumph, as those whose experience has 
been related? No; this is not pretended. Some no 
doubt, die under a cloud, and go out of the world in 

distressing doubt respecting their eternal destiny. It 
is to guard against such an event, that we would ex- 
hort all professors of religion, and include ourselves in 
the number, to begin in time to make preparation 
for death. Dear brethren, let us look well to the foun- 
dation of our hope; we cannot bestow too much 
pains and diligence in making our calling and i 
tion sure. We shall never regret, on a death-bed, 
that we were too much concerned to secure the sal- 
vation of our souls; or, that we were. too careful in 
making preparation for another world. Let us re- 
member that our time on earth is short, and that 
whatever is done, must be done quickly. There will 
be no opportunity of coming hack to rectify what has 
been done amiss, or to supply what is wanting. u Now 
is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation." 
Let us work while it is day, knowing that the dark 
night cometh when no man can work. Let us then 
awake to righteousness. Let us watch and be sober. 
Let us put on the armour of light, and especially 
let us see to it, that we have on the wedding 
garment; else we shall never find admittance to the 
marriage-supper of the Lamb. The only robe which 
can bear the scrutinizing inspection of the King, is 
the perfect and spotless robe* of Christ's imputed 
righteousness. This will render us acceptable in the 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 275 

Beloved. With this, we must put on the robe of in- 
herent righteousness ; for " without holiness, no man 
shall see the Lord;" and these two, though distinct, 
are never separated. Only, the latter is never per- 
fect until we come to the end of our course ; and 
this single consideration should reconcile us to the 
thoughts of death; that then we shall be freed from 
all sin. how blessed is that state, where we shah 
see no more darkly through a glass, but face to face ; 
where we shall know no more in part, but as we are 
known. bright and delightful vision of the glory of 
God in the face of Jesus Christ ! Surely this is worth 
dying for. 

But it may be asked, Is there not evidence of. too 
much excitement, in the experiences which have been 
narrated ? May not a part at least of the elevated and 
exhilarated feelings be the effect of an accelerated cir- 
culation ? People who die of pulmonary consumption 
are apt to be sanguine, and to indulge buoyant hopes 
even in regard to recovery. In answer, I would say, 
that this may be admitted to have some effect in in- 
creasing the degree of excitement ; but it never can 
account for the bright views and unspeakable joys 
which some experience. And the truth is, we are 
poor judges of the degree of elevated excitement, 
which the sense of God's love will produce. 

It must be confessed, that while we may admire 
and breathe after such an elevated and triumphant 
state of mind, as was experienced by those of whom 
some account has been given ; yet we cannot so read- 
ily sympathize with such high emotions, as with a 
more calm and deliberate frame of spirit. Indeed, it 
is here as in health, when we see persons much ex- 
cited in regard to religion, or any thing else, we do 
nor place such entire confidence in what they utter, 
;»s when the same persons calmly and soberly express 
i heir sentiments. The reason is, that in all great ex- 
citements the imagination and feelings predominate 
over the judgment ; and experience teaches that in 
all such cases there is a tendency to exaggeration, 
and to the use of strong expressions ; and it cannot 



276 THOUGHTS ON 

be doubted that, in some cases, the religious exulta 
tion experienced is somewhat delirious. The ner 
vous system loses its tone, and although its agitations 
are violent, they are somewhat irregular and exces- 
sive, so as to produce an irrepressible thrilling through 
the soul. It is not Wonderful, that while the myste- 
rious connexion between soul and body is coming to 
an end, there should be something in the emotions 
new, and in the looks, tones, and gestures, out of the 
common way. This does not alter or vitiate the 
nature of the pious exercises of the soul, though it 
may modify them, and give them a peculiar as| 
and expression. If any person chooses to supp 
that, in some of the cases specified, while faith 

was triumphant, and hope full of assurance, there 
might he superadded an exhilaration arising out of 
the peculiar state of the body, he will not have me 
objecting. The last exercises of that useful and de 

voted man, .Jeremiah Kvarts, were very remarkable 

for the degree of powerful excitement manifested ; 
and the more remarkable, because his mind v 
highly intellectual, and very little subject to excite- 
ment, in common. Still it was well known to those 
intimate with him, that when he was aroused, his 
feelings were very strong. 

Often, officious friends and physicians are ex 
tremely averse to have any thing said to their friends, 
on the subject of religion, when they are sick, lest it 
should disturb their minds, and so increase the vio- 
lence of the disease. I would not, it is true, admit 
every loquacious old man or woman, into the chambei 
of a friend dangerously ill, but a discreet and pious 
counsellor is of great value at such a time. If the 
patient is hopefully pious, none can doubt the propri- 
ety and comfort of aiding such by holding forth to 
their view the rich promises of a faithful God. But 
even when the character of the sick is different, it 
often gives relief to have an opportunity of conversa- 
tion with ^pious friend or minister. Anxious feel- 
ings, pent up in the soul and finding no vent, are far 
more injurious than a free expression of them : and if 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. Ill 

'he person is in danger of death, will you, can y< u, be 
guilty of the cruelty of debarring him from the only 
opportunity of salvation, which he may ever have? 
If you do, his blood will be found in your skirts 
To show how erroneous the opinion is, that religious 
conversation tends to injure the sick by increasing his 
disease, I will relate a fact which fell under my own 
observation. 

A young gentleman of fortune and liberal educa- 
tion, had been for some months thinking seriously 
about his soul's salvation; but the work had not 
come to any maturity, when by making too great an 
exertion of his bodily strength, he ruptured a large 
blood vessel in the lungs, and was brought to death's 
door; not being able to speak above a low whisper. 
Having been a pupil of mine, I was permitted to see 
him, and upon asking the state of his mind, he whis- 
pered in my ear, that he was overwhelmed with the 
most awful darkness and terror — not one ray of light 
dawned upon his miserable soul. I prayed with him 
and presented to him a few gospel invitations and 
promises, and left him, never expecting to see him 
alive. Next day I called, the physician coming out 
of his room, informed me, that while they were wait- 
ing for his last breath, a favourable change seemed 
unexpectedly to have taken place, and that he had 
revived a little. When I approached his bed, he 
looked joyfully in my face, pressed my hand, and said, 
" All is well — I have found peace. — This morning, 
about the dawn, I had the most delightful view of 
Christ, and of his ability and willingness to save me." 
And upon inquiry, I found, that that was the moment 
when the favourable change took place in his symp- 
toms. Faith and joy accomplished what no medicine 
could, and acted as a reviving cordial to his dying 
body. He so far recovered as to live a number of 
years afterwards, though his lungs were never sound; 
and his consistent walk and conversation attested ihe 
reality of his change. He soon joined himself to the 
communion of the church, and died in her communion. 

While spending a summer in Germantown, near 

24 



278 THOUGHTS ON 

Philadelphia, I was sent for to visit a young man, 
•whom I had often seen. He did not I elong to my 
charge, but two pious ladies who did. were his friends, 
and had come out of the city to nurse him. He had 
a hemorrhage of the lungs, which left little room to 
hope for recovery. As he was a mild and moral 
man, I did not know, hut thai he might be a profe 
of religjon; hut upon asking him a question respecting 
his hope, h«- frankly told me that he had been skepti- 
cal for many years, and had no belief that the go 
was divine. I never felt more at a loss. The man 
was too wealc to attend to argument, and if I could 
by reasoning convince him of his error, it would not 
beasaving faith, and he must die before this pro< 
could he -one through. I found that lus infidelity 
afforded him no comforl in a dying hour, and that he 
wished he could believe in Christ It occurred to ma 
that the word et' God contained light and energy in 
itself, and that if he could not attend to the external 
evidences, the beams of truth might shine in upon his 
soul, and thus generates saving faith by the efficient 
aid of the Spirit. After pointing out the probable 
sources of his skepticism, 1 requested tin.' ladies who 
were attending on him, to read certain portions of the 
gospel to him. as he could hear it — for he W 
low. This was done; and next day, when I came 
to see him, he declared that lus douhts were all E 
tered. and that he had hope in Christ. Afterwards, 
he was never able to converse; but as far as is known 
died in hope. 

1 never saw any one approach death so deliber- 
ately and composedly, as the late Rev. Robert Ray, 
pastor of the church of Freehold, in New Jersey. He 
had spent a winter at St. Augustine, with the hope of 
restoring his health, hut came home more disei 
than before he went. His lungs were deeply affected, 
and he foresaw that his end was approaching. But 
as long as he was able to speak, he caused himself to 
he carried to the church and to be assisted into the 
pulpit, where he would preach and exhort until his 
breath failed, when he would pant as if aDout to die. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 21 ( J 

and then be conveyed home as he came. This was 
done not once or twice, but for many weeks; for lie 
said, as he must die, he might as well die preaching; 
and he felt a strong desire to be the menus of saving 
the people committed to his charge ; and he hoped that 
a voice of affectionate warning from the grave might 
have the effect of awakening some of them. As he 
suffered but little acute pain, he appeared until his 
dying day, as calm and cheerful, as a man long absent 
from home would, when the time came to return to Ins 
friends. He conversed as familiarly and composedly 
about his approaching change, as if (here was nothing 
formidable in it. Indeed, it had no terrors for him. 
Even when death was upon him, having observed 
some of his neighbours coming in, he said, " Well, 
you have come to see your pastor die." He then 
remarked, that his feelings were very peculiar, such as 
he had never experienced before ; and without any per 
turbation of mind or bodily agony, he gently fell asleep. 

Wishing in these experiences of dying saints to give 
as great a variety as is compatible with my limits, 1 
will now extract an account of the last illness of Mrs. 
Susan Huntington, of Boston, taken down by her pas- 
tor, the Rev. Dr. Wisner, after his visits to her sick 
room. 

Tuesday, October 2S, 1823. Called on Mrs. Hunt- 
ington about half-past nine in the morning. Found 
that she had failed considerably since my last visit. 
To an inquiry respecting the state of her mind, she 
said, ."I think I have felt more of the presence of 
Christ, than when I saw you last. I have not had 
those strong views and joyful feelings, with which I 
have sometimes been favoured. My mind is weak ; 
I cannot direct and fix my thoughts as I orxe could. 
But I think I have fled for refuge to lay hold on the 
hope set before me in the precious gospel; and He 
who is the foundation of that hope will never forsake 
me." Then, with a most interesting expression of 
countenance, she said, " I trust we shall meet in hea- 
ven, and spend an eternity in praising our dear Re- 
deemer." "I feel," said she, "that I have been very, 



280 THOUGHTS ON 

very unfaithful ; but He is merciful — his blood clean 
seth from all sin : and I trust he has blotted out my 
sins from the book of his remembrance. what 
should we do without Christ?" "As much debtors 
to free grace at the end of our course as at the begin* 
ning," observed her pastor. « More, far more," she 
replied, "for we sin against greater light and love, after 
we are born again. Yes, it is ail fw — if it were 

not, what would become of me?" It was answered, 
" You would have perished — justly perished." •• Y 
she replied, ik what a glorious plan, what a precious 
Saviour! that I could love him more! Pray that 
I may love and glorify him for ever!" 

On Friday. October 31, found her more comfortable. 
She said, "My mind has generally been m a peaceful 
frame since I saw you; but I want to realize the pre- 
sence and preciousness of Christ, more distinctly and 
constantly than my great weakness permits me to do." 
In answer to some remarks on the covenant of L r r 
she said, " Glorious covenant! precious promises! I 
have given myself and body to Him, in whom they 
are yea and amen, and I do not tear; I desire him to 
do with me ;is it shall please him." 

Tuesday, November 3. To the usual inquiry, she 
replied, « Mrs. Graham accurately describes my : 
ings, when she says, 'Thus far the Lord hath brought 
me through the wilderness, bearing, chastising, forgiv- 
ing, restoring. I am near to Jordan's flood. May my 
blessed High Priest and ark of the covenant, lead ow 
my staggering steps, the little further I have to go.' " 
And on December 4, she breathed her last, in the faith 
atid hope of the gospel. 

As in the preceding account of Mrs. Huntington, 
mention is made of Mrs. Graham, of New York, it 
may be in place to give a few particulars of this wise 
woman, as she may properly be called, during her 
last illness. Foreseeing that her end was near, she 
sent for Mrs. Chrystie, a dear friend, between whom 
and herself an agreement had been made, that which 
ever was first summoned away, should be attended, in 
aer last moments, by the other. To her son-in-law. 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 281 

Mr. Bethune, wLobi the saw standing by, she said, 
" My dear, dear -on. I am going to leave you ; I am 
going to my Saviour." He answered, " I know that 
when yoi' io go from us, it will be to the Saviour; but, 
my .d<vr mother, it may not be the Lord's time now to 
°all ou to himself." " Yes," said she, "now is the 
*'me; and Oh! I could weep for sin." Her words 
were accompanied with her tears. "Have you any 
doubts, then, my dear friend," asked Mrs. Chrystie. 
" no," replied she, " I have no more doubt of going 
to my Saviour, than if I were already in his arms. 
M y guilt is all transferred. He has cancelled all my debt ; 
yet I could weep for sins against so good a God. It 
seems to me there must be weeping even in Heaven." 
When her dear friend and pastor, Dr. Mason, came to 
see her, they had a very interesting interview — at the 
close of which, he inquired if there was any thing, in 
particular, for which he should pray. She said, "The 
Lord will direct," and immediately offered up this 
short prayer: "Lord, direct thy servant in prayer." 
During her sickness, she was for much of the time leth- 
argic, and it was often difficult to arouse her. But 
when at any time waked up for a moment, she would 
utter some sweet word — such as " peace," indicating 
the happy state of her mind. Dr. Mason, in his funeral 
sermon, said, " This may truly be called falling asleep 
in Jesus." All terror seemed to be removed, and her 
countenance was placid, and looked younger than be- 
fore her illness. At a quarter past 12 o'clock, on the 
27th of July, 1814, without a struggle or a groan, her 
spirit winged its flight from a mansion of clay to the 
lealms of glory. 



24* 



282 THOUGHTS OW 



CHAPTER XXI. 



Death-bed exercises of Mr. Baxter, and the Rev. Thomas Scott, D. D. 

Dr. Bates, in his funeral sermon, occasioned by the 
death of Mr. Baxter, has given us an interesting ac- 
count of his last days, some part of which [will 
extract, us furnishing an example, not of a highly 
excited state of feeling, but of a truly pious, calm 
submissive frame of mind. Few persons, who ever 
lived, have given more convincing evidence of fervent 

piety, throughout a long life, than this devoted servant 

of God. His end corresponded with the tenor of his 
life, and with the religion which he inculcated in his 

sermons. 

"lie continued," says Dr. Hates, "to preach so 
long, notwidistanding his wasted and languishing 
body, that the last time, he almost died in the pulpit 
It would doubtless have been his joy to be trans* 
figured in the mount. Not long after, he felt the 
approaches of death, and was confined to his sick 
bed. Death reveals the secrets of the heart: then 
words are .spoken with most feeling and least affec- 
tation. This excellent saint was the same in his life 
and his death: his last hours were spent in preparing 
others and himself 10 appear before God. He said to 
his friends, who came to see him, 'Ye come hither to 
learn to die. I am not the only person that must go 
this way. I can assure you, that your whole life, be 
it ever so long, is little enough to prepare for death. 
Have a care of this vain, deceitful world, and the 
lusts of the flesh. Be sure you choose God for your 
portion, heaven for your home, God's glory for your 
end, and his word for your rule, and then you need 
never fear, but we shall meet in comfort.' Never 
Was penitent sinner more humble, never was a sin 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 283 

cere believer more calm and comfortable. He ac- 
knowledged himself to be the vilest dunghili-worm 
(it was his usual expression) that ever went to heaven. 
He admired the divine condescension to us, often say- 
ing, < Lord, what is man ! what am I, a vile worm, to 
the great God !' Many times he prayed, ' God be 
merciful to me a sinner/ and thanked God that this 
was left on record, in the gospel, as an effectual prayer. 
He said, < God may justly condemn me for the best 
duty I ever performed. All my hopes are from the 
free mercy of God in Christ.' After a slumber, he 
awaked, and said, * I shall rest from my labour.' A 
minister present said, 'And your works shall follow 
you.' To whom he replied, ' No works — I will leave 
out works, if God will grant me the other.' When a 
friend was comforting him with the good which many 
had received by his preaching and writing, he said, ; 1 
was but a pen in God's hand, and what praise is due 
to a pen ?' 

" His resigned submission to the will of God, in his 
sharp sickness, was eminent. When extremity con- 
strained him earnestly to pray to God for his release, 
by death, he would check himself, < It is not fit for me 
to prescribe — when thou wilt, what thou wilt, and how 
thou wilt.' Being in great anguish, he said, <0 how 
unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past 
finding out — the reaches of his providence we cannot 
fathom.' And to his friends, ' Do not think the worse 
of religion for what you see me suffer.' Being often 
asked, how it was with the inner man, he replied, ' I 
have a well-grounded assurance of my eternal happi- 
ness, and great peace and comfort within.' He said, 
1 Flesh must perish, and we must feel the perishing of 
it,' and that though his judgment submitted, yet sense 
would still make him groan. He derived great com- 
fort from that description in Heb. xii. 22 ; that he 
was going to the innumerable company of angels, ana 
to the general assembly and church of the first-born, 
whose names are written in heaven ; and to God the 
Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made per- 
fect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, 



^84 THOUGHTS ON 

and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh tetter 
things than the blood of Abel. < That Scripture,' he 
said, < deserved a thousand and a thousand thoughts. ' 

" At another time, he said he derived great comfort 
and sweetness, in repeating the Lord's prayer, and 
was sorry some good people were prejudiced against 
the use of it, for there were all necessary petitions for 
the soul and body contained in it. He gave excellent 
counsels to young ministers, that visited him, and 
earnestly prayed to God to bless their labours, and 
make them very successful in turning many souls to 
Christ; expressed great joy in the hopes that (iod 
would do a great deal of good by them, and that theii 
spirits might be moderate and peaceful, lie often 
prayed that God would be merciful to this miserablei 
distracted world, and that In 4 would preserve his 
church and interest in it. He advised his friends to 
beware of self-conceit, as a sin thai was likely to ruin 
the nation. 

" I visited him, with a very worthy friend. Mr. 
Mather, from New England, the day before he died. 
I said to him, 'You are now approaching your long 
desired home:' he answered, ' I believe, I believe. 1 
He expressed greal willingness to die, and during his 
sickness, when asked, -How he did,' his reply was, 
tJUnunt well. 9 His joy was most remarkable, when, 
in his own apprehension, death was nearest ; and his 
spiritual joy was at length consummated in eternal 
joy. On the day of his death, a great trembling 
and coldness extorted strong cries from him, for pity 
and relief from heaven; which cries and agonies con- 
tinued for some time, till at length he ceased, and 
lay in patient expectation of his change. The last 
words he spoke to me, on being informed that I was 
come to see him, were, < Oh, I thank him, I thank 
him,' and turning his eyes to me said, i The Lord 
teach you how to die !' To the last I never could 
perceive his peace and heavenly hopes assaulted or 
disturbed. I have often heard him greatly lament that 
he felt no greater liveliness in what appeared so 
great and clear to him, and so much desired by him 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 285 

He told me he knew it should be well with him, 
when he was gone. He wondered to hear others 
speak of their sensible and passionately strong desires 
to die, and of their comforts of spirit, when sensible 
of their approaching death; when, though he thought 
he knew as much as they, and had as rational satis- 
faction as they could have, that his soul was safe, he 
never could feel their sensible consolations. I asked. 
whether much of this was not to be resolved into bodily 
constitution : he told me he thought it must be so. 

A wicked and groundless report was circulated, 
that he was greatly troubled with skeptical thoughts 
before he died. Mr. Sylvester, who was with him 
during his whole sickness, declares there was not the 
least foundation whatever, for such a report. But 
the devil seems to be greatly envious at the comforta- 
ble death of God's people, and therefore his agents 
are busy in circulating slanders against the saints, in 
regard to this matter. So, although Calvin ended his 
days in great tranquillity and in the full exercise of 
faith and enjoyment of reason, his enemies circulated 
the report, that he died in all the horrors of despair. 
Thus also, when the Rev. Augustus Toplady was near 
his end, it was circulated that he had renounced all 
those doctrines of grace, for which he was so zeal- 
ous in his life. Happily the report reached him be- 
fore his decease, which gave him the opportunity of 
contradicting it, and leaving his dying testimony in 
favour of those doctrines. His dying experience was 
of the most joyful and triumphant kind, and would do 
to be classed with those of John Janeway, Edward 
Payson, and Dr. Samuel Finley, but we have not room 
for it, and many others. 

The two Henrys, father and son, so eminent for 
their piety and usefulness, were carried off by sudden 
and painful diseases, which afforded little opportunity 
for much conversation. They experienced, however, 
much of the divine aid and support. John Howe's 
death was exactly in character with his life and wri 
tings. 

It may be thought, that all the specimens of the e\ 



286 THOUGHTS ON 

penence of believers, during their last illness, have 
been of the favourable kind ; and far above what is 
witnessed in the greater number of Christians, on 
their dying bed. It may be so. But I wish to remark, 
that in all my life, I have known few persons, who 
lived like Christians, when in health, who did not 
in their approach to death, manifest as much hope 
and fortitude, in that trying hour, as could reasonably 
have been expected from the character of their pi 
In many cases as I have before stated, the comfort 
and assurance of some timid and desponding be- 
lievers, have risen far above what any of their friends 
dared to hope. In general tin- result of my observa- 
tion is. that the pious find death less terrible on their 
near approach to the event, than when it was viewed 
at a distance. Some persons have naturally a mueh 
greater dread ot death than others, though their piety 
may he more lively. Of this class was the late Dr. 
Thomas Scott, the author of the Commentary on the 
Bible. Few men of the last age, gave stronger evi- 
dence of deep-rooted and constant attachment to the 
Saviour, than this devoted man. In the service of 
his Master, he was most laborious and faithful, and 
it would he difficult to name any man whose evan- 
gelical labours have been attended with happier re- 
sults, lie contributed much, in conjunction with 
such men as Romanic, New ton, Cecil, and others, to 
extend the influence of vital religion, far and wide, 
through the established church of England; and his 
usefulness was not confined to his own country, or to 
the period of his life; but, in these United States. I 
know no writings which have been so extensively 
circulated, and which have so powerful an effect in 
correcting prevailing errors in religion, and promoting 
sound, evangelical views of Scriptural truth. I have 
selected the dying experience of this man, of un- 
doubted and eminent piety, for the reason hinted at 
in the beginning of this chapter; because his exer- 
cises, though deeply serious, were not for the most 
of the time, remarkably comfortable ; and in no part 
of his illness, did he express much elevated joy. I 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 287 

think it right tc view God's people in their various 
states and frames, as they approach the end of their 
pilgrimage. A pious clergyman remarked, in rela- 
tion to the exercises of Dr. Scott, that men of pro- 
found thought, and deep rejection, are not commonly 
so joyful on a dying-bed as Christians of less under- 
standing and less experience, and he referred to Bnnyan, 
as of the same mind, who represents Christian, his 
chief pilgrim, as almost overwhelmed with the waters 
of Jordan, while the less experienced pilgrim, Hope- 
ful, goes over with little difficulty or danger. I 
cannot say, that I can altogether concur in this remark. 
It may often happen, that the unlettered Christian 
has a livelier faith than the profoundly learned theolo- 
gian, and of course will be likely to have a calmer, 
happier exit from the world. But if men of talents 
and learning possess a vigorous, evangelical faith, 
they are as likely to rejoice on a dying bed as any 
others, as is evinced by the examples of Rivet, Baxter, 
Howe, &c. The difference between the comforts of 
dying saints may be attributed, first to divine sover- 
eignty, which distributes grace and consolation as 
seemeth good^unto him; secondly, to bodily tempera- 
ment ; some persons being more fearful than others, 
and more prone to suspect their own sincerity ; and 
thirdly, to the nature of the disease by which the 
body is brought down to the grave. It is the ten- 
dency of some diseases, while they do not disturb 
the intellect, to exhilarate the spirits, and enliven the 
imagination ; while a distressing depression or pertur- 
bation is the effect of others; to say nothing of the 
different degrees of pain experienced by different per- 
sons; and we know that some diseases have a de- 
plorable stupefying effect. A fourth and frequent 
cause of difference in the exercises of dying persons 
is produced by the medicine which is administered. 
When physicians can do nothing to cure, they think it 
right to lull their patients by opiates, or excite them 
by alcohol. I have, when sick, been more afraid of 
nothing than these intoxicating and stupefying, or even 
exhilarating drugs. let no artificial means be ever 



2S8 THOUGHTS ON 

used with me, in that dread hour, to interrupt soboi 
and deliberate reflection ! 

But to return to Dr. Scott; his disease was a violen 
fever, so that the range of his pulse was from 150 tc 
175 in a minute. Under such a disease it is not won- 
derful thai tie was often restless and uncomfortable in 
his feelings. The Rev. Daniel Wilson, (now bishop 
of Calcutta) in his funeral sermon observes, "That for 
several years preceding the event itself, his bodily infir- 
mities had been increasing. 1 1 is strength and natural 
spirits at times sensibly failed. His own impression 
was, thai his departure was approaching, and he con- 
templated it with calmness ami tranquillity." Mr, 
Wilson with great propriety remarks, « Before I pro- 
ceed to give particulars of his most instructive 
and affecting departure, I must observe, that I lay no 
stress on th an as to the evidence of his state before 
God. Ir is the tenor of the life, not that of the few 
tring ami morbid scenes which precede dissolution, 
that fixes the character. We are not authorized from 
Scripture to place any dependence on the last peri 
of sinking nature, through which the Christian may 
be called to pass to his eternal reward. Hut though 
no importance is to be attached to these hours of faint- 
ing mortality, with reference to the acceptance and 
final triumph of the dying Christian, yet, where it 
pleases God to afford one of his departing servant. 
in the instance before us, such a measure of faith and 
self-possession, as to close a holy and most consistent 
life, with a testimony which sealed, amidst the pains 
of acute disease, and in the most impressive man- 
ner, all his doctrines and instructions, during forty- 
five preceding years, we are called on, as I think, to 
record with gratitude the divine benefit, and to use 
it with humility, for the confirmation of our own faith 
and joy." 

His second son, writes from his bed-side, " His 
gloom, of which I had heard a good deal, in an indis- 
tinct manner, by no means relates to the prospects 
which lie before him. He is perfectly calm and 
cheerful in the view of dissolution, and seems disap- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 289 

pointed at the symptoms of recovery He thought 
his trials were almost over; and said, that yesterday 
morning he had hoped to end the sacred services of 
the day in heaven. Indeed, his wish is, decidedly, 
to depart , in the confidence that he shall be with 
Christ, which is far better. His dejection is mani- 
festly nothing more than the feeling of a mind ex- 
hausted by its own exertions. His feelings on Sunday 
were very distressing both to himself and others, and 
were clearly aggravated by a degree of delirium 
arising from fever. Yesterday and to-day he has 
been quite calm, and though too weak to speak much, 
is evidently in a tranquil state. I brought my eldest 
boy with me, that he might once more see his grand- 
farther, and receive his last blessing. He spoke to 
him this morning for a few minutes in a most affect- 
ing manner, and pronounced his blessing upon him, 
in a way, which I trust, he will never forget. May 
God grant that he may walk in the steps which are 
leading his grandfather to glory !" In another letter, 
a few days afterwards, he says, "Though I can say 
nothing favourable respecting his health, for he ap- 
pears approaching very near to his end, yet, thanks 
be to God, the clouds which overspread his mind are 
breaking away, and he talks with a placidity and cheer- 
fulness greater than I have before seen, since I came/' 
" Just as we had assembled for family worship, he 
sent to say, that he wished us to meet in his room, 
and join in the Lord's supper, as a means of grace 
through which he might receive that consolation that 
he was seeking. The whole family — with one ex- 
ception — was present, and an old parishioner. It is 
impossible to describe the deeply interesting and af- 
fecting scene. The fervour displayed by my dear 
father, the poor emaciated form, the tears and sobs 
of all present, were almost more than I could bear 
with that degree of composure which was requisite 
to enable me to read the service, so as to make him 
hear, (Dr. S. had become very deaf.) But it was a 
delightful feeling, and has done more to cheer our 
downcast hearts, than can well be conceived. It 

25 



290 THOUGHTS ON 

was, moreover, a cordial to my father's spirits, who 
adopted the words of the venerable Simeon, in the 
prospect of dissolution; Now lettest thou thy servan, 
depart in peace ." 

The Rev. D. Wilson, in his funeral sermon, of 
which a number of editions were published, makes 
the following just remarks: — u The remarkable suf- 
ferings of so eminent a saint, in his last sickness, 
may, perhaps, at first perplex the mind of a young 
Christian, lint such a person should remember, that 
the way to Heaven is ordinarily a way of tribulation, 
and that the greatest honour God puts on his ser- 
vants, is to call them to such circumstabces of afflic- 
tion as display and manifest his grace. What would 
have crushed a weak and unstable penitent, with im- 
mature knowledge of the promises of salvation, only 
illustrated the faith of the venerable subject of this 
discourse. God adapts the burden to the strength. 
As to the darkness and anguish which at times rested 
on his mind, they were clearly the combined effects 
of disease and the temptations of the adversary. The 
return of comfort as the lever remitted, made this quite 
certain, and he was himself able, at times, to make 
the distinction. But even in the midst of his afflictive 
feelings, it is manifest to every real judge of such a 
case, that a living and a strong faith was in vigorous 
activity. For consolation is one thing, faith another. 
This latter grace often lays hold of the promises made 
in Christ with the firmest grasp, at the very time 
when hope and comfort are interrupted by the mor- 
bid state of the bodily and mental powers. Our 
feelings and powers, thank God, are not the founda- 
tion on which we build. Never, perhaps, was stroi 
faith exhibited by our Saviour himself, than when he 
uttered those piercing words, " My God, my God, 
why hast thou forsaken me?" 

His daughter, in giving an account of the condition 
of her dying father, says, "In the time of his dark- 
ness and gloom, he prayed without ceasing, and with 
inexpressible fervour. He seemed unconscious of 
any one being near him, and gave vent to the feel- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 291 

ings of his mind without restraint. And, Oh ! what 
holy feelings were they! What spirituality; what 
hatred of sin; what humility; what simple faith in 
Christ; what zeal for God's glory; what submission! 
Never could I hear him without being reminded of 
Him, ivho being in an agony, prayed the more earn- 
estly. ' I think nothing,' said he, <of my bodily pains 
— my soul is all. I trust all will end well, but it is a 
dreadful conflict. I hope — I fear — I tremble — I pray 
Satan tries to be avenged of me in this awful hour, foi 
all that I have done against his kingdom through life 
He longs to pluck me out of Christ's hand. Subdue 
the enemy, Lord ! Silence the accuser. Bruise Sa- 
tar under my feet shortly. — 

'Hide me, O my Saviour hide, 

Till the storm of life is past 
Safe into the haven guide, 

O receive my soul at last. — 
Other refuge have I none.' 

to enter eternity with one doubt on the mind — 
eternity — eternity — eternity ! what a thing sin is ! 
Who knoweth the power of his- wrath? If this be the 
way to heaven, what must be the way to hell ? If the 
righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly 
and sinner appear?" 

He mentioned the wonderful way in which his pray- 
ers for others had been answered, and seemed to derive 
some comfort from it. He rejected every attempt to 
comfort him by reminding him of the way in which 
he had served and glorified God. " Christ is all," he 
said, " He is my only hope." His wonderful know- 
ledge of Scripture was a source of great comfort; and 
the exactness with which he repeated passage after 
passage, was amazing. The manner in which also he 
connected one with another, was admirable. His first 
clear consolation was after receiving the Lord's Sup- 
per, of which an account has been given. He had 
previously observed, " An undue stress is, by some, 
laid on this ordinance, as administered to the sick ; and 
others, I think, are in danger of undervaluing it. It 



292 THOUGHTS OS 

is a means of grace ; and may prove God's instrument 
of conveying to me the comfort I am seeking." After 
he had partaken of this divine ordinance, he said to 
his son-in-law, " It was beneficial to me; I recei 
Christ and lie received me. I feel a composure which 
I did not expect last night. I have not a triumphant 
assurance, but something which is more calm and sat- 
isfactory. I bless God for it." And then he repeated, 
in the most emphatic manner, the 12th chapter 
Isaiah, " O Lord, I > r/ '// praise thee: though thou 
wast angry with vie,'- See. to realize the full 
of joy — to have with temptation! "Th 

shall hunger no more, nor thirst any more; neil 
shall the sun light on them nor any heat ; for the Lamb 
which is in the midst of th* 1 throne shall feed th 
and shall lead them unto living fountains of wal 
and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." — 
"They are come out of great tribulation, and have wash- 
ed their robes and made them white in the blood of the 
Lamb : therefore are they before the throne of God." — 
"We know not what we shall be, but we know that 
when He shall appear, we shall be like him; for 
shall see him as he is/' — "The righteous hath ho 
in his death; not driven away — no, no, not driven 
away !" 

"There is one feeling," said he, "which [cannot 
have if I would. Those that oppose my doctrine h 
slandered me sadly, but I cannot feel any resentment. 
I can only love and pity them, and pray for their sal- 
vation. I never did feel any resentment against them. 
I only regret that I did not more ardently long and 
pray for the salvation of their souls. I feel in 
earnest in prayer for the promotion of Christ's kit 
dom all over the earth. There are two causes in I 
world, the cause of God and the cause of the de\ 
the cause of our Lord Jesus Christ and the cause of 
the devil. The cause of God will prevail all over the 
world, among all kindreds, and people, and tongues. It 
shall fill the whole earth. i Hallowed be thy name J &c." 

Waking, after a short sleep, in great calmness, he 
*aid, " This is heaven begun ; I have done with dark 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 293 

ness for ever — for ever, Satan is vanquished. No- 
thing now remains but salvation, with eternal glory — 
eternal glory." But the conflict was not yet over, 
for another paroxysm came on with great violence; 
his sufferings were extreme, and confusion and gloom 
prevailed. He cried earnestly to God, and said, " All 
my calm and comfort are gone; nothing remains of 
them but a faint recollection. Well, after all, God is 
greater than Satan. Is not Christ all sufficient ? Can 
he not save to the uttermost ? Has he not promised 
to save ? Lord, deliver me — suffer not Satan to pre- 
vail Pity, pity, Lord, pity me !" But during all his 
severe sufferings of mind and body, not a word of 
repining or murmuring ever escaped his lips. He said, 
with reference to his dying in this gloom, " I cannot 
help it. Thou art righteous! Father, glorify thy 
name" And then he repeated those affecting lines 
of Watts's paraphrase of the fifty-first psalm, 

41 And if my soul were sent to Hell, 
Thy righteous law approves it well. 
Yet save a trembling' sinner, Lord, 
Whose hope still hovering- round thy word, 
Would light on some sweet promise there, 
Some sure support against despair." 

To his wife, he said, " God be your father and your 
Husband. I trust all mine will be kind to you. You 
have been a great blessing to me We shall, I 
trust, mjpet in heaven. I have less doubt of you, than 
of myself. " 

A message was received from the Rev. D. Wilson, 
his highly esteemed friend, expressing among other 
things the great benefit he had been to the church 
" Now this," said he, " is doing me harm. < God be 
merciful to me a sinner' is the only ground on which 
I can rest. If I am saved, God shall have all the glory." 
Having talked too much, he was again distressed, 
but having obtained some rest, he awoke in the night, 
and said to his youngest son, who sat up with him, 
"What is the world and the glory of it ? I would not 
change my hope, lean and meagre as it is, for all the 

25* 



294 THOUGHTS ON 

kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, were 
I sure of living a thousand years longer, to enjoy 
them." 

His daughter asked him on Sunday, if she should stay 
from church and attend on him, " no," he replied, 
"nothing gives me pleasure but what is for your good, 
and the thought that you pray for me." 

On Monday, he said to the servant who attended 
him, " I thank you for all your kindness. You have 
been a faithful domestic, and I hope a conscientious 
one. If at any time I have been hasty and sharp, 
forgive me, and pray to God to forgive, but lay the 
blame upon me, not on religion." A similar ado 
and request he made to his curate. Thus ins feelings 
continued to alternate for several days, until death 
closed the scene. But whatever were his pains, his 
prayers wen; unceasing and most earnest. During the 
whole scene, his patience, his kindness, his submission, 
his humility, and his faith, were most manifest. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Preparation for Death — The state of the Soul after Death. 

It was intended to have added the death-bed expe- 
rience of the Rev. Dr. Andrew Fuller, and of some 
others, but it seemed that this part of the subject had 
been extended far enough. Indeed, some may be 
ready to inquire, why so much is said respecting the 
thoughts and speeches of dying persons? To which 
we would reply, that there is no subject in the world 
which ought to be more interesting to all men, since 
all men are appointed to die. Whatever other evils 
we may escape, " in this war there is no discharge." 
It is a scene of which we can have no previous ex- 
perience ; and therefore, it is prudent to learn what 
we can from the experience of those who have gone 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE, 295 

before us. It is an important and an awful scene, and 
should therefore occupy many of our thoughts. If 
due preparation has been neglected in life and health, 
there is small probability that it will be made on a 
dying bed. If I had set down all that I have wit- 
nessed and read of the dying exercises of unconverted 
sinners, it would have presented an appalling object 
for our contemplation. Such scenes have often been 
exhibited in print, and are not without their use, but 
such narratives did not fall in with the scope of these 
essays. But however insipid, or even disgusting these 
accounts of the dying exercises of believers may be to 
some readers, there is a class, and a large one too, who 
will take a deep interest in these things, because they 
are now waiting till their change come, and are 
looking forward with intense interest to that inevit- 
able event of which we have been writing so much. 
These are the persons whom the author has had prin- 
cipally in view, in selecting these experiences of de- 
parting saints : and as the hopes and comforts of the 
children of God in life are very various, so he has en- 
deavoured to show, that a like variety is found in 
their views and exercises, at the time of their depar- 
ture out of the world. The writer confesses also, that 
in dwelling so long on this subject, he had some re- 
gard to his own edification, and preparation for death. 
As he knows from infallible evidence, that he will 
soon be required to put off this tabernacle, and to 
emigrate from this lower world, he was solicitous to ac- 
quire as much information as he was able from those 
who have gone before, what were the difficulties, suf- 
ferings, and encouragements, of pilgrims in this last 
stage of their journey. And, however it may be with 
others, he has derived instruction and encouragement, 
from the contemplation of such scenes as are here de- 
scribed. It appears to him supremely reasonable, that 
during the short time which remains of his life, he 
should be chiefly concerned in the meditation of the 
things of another world, and in making actual prepa- 
ration for his own departure. He once supposed that 
the near approach of death would of itself be sufficient 



296 THOUGHTS ON 

to arouse the mind, and impress upon it the reality 
and awful importance of eternal things ; but he finds 
by sad experience, that however his judgment is con- 
vinced of the certainty of death, and its consequen- 
ces, nothing will bring these things to bear on the 
heart, but the illumination of the Holy Spirit. lie 
wishes, therefore, to engage in such reading, medita- 
tion, and writing, as may have a tendency to fix his 
thoughts on the solemn scene before him, when he 
must close his eyes on the light of this world, and 
bid adieu to all friends and objects with which he has 
been conversant here. He is not o[ opinion, howe 
that the besl way to make preparation for death, is to 
sit down and pore over the condition of our own 
souls, or to confine our exertions to those tic 
which are directly connected with our own salvation. 
We are kept here to do our Master's work, and that 
relates to others .-is well as ourselves. We have ;i stew- 
ardship, of which we must give an account; and the 
faithful and wis.- steward is careful and diligent in dis- 
pensing the hlesMiiL'svoninnlted to him. to others; this 
is especially ih<' case in regard to ministers of the _ 
pel. We have q responsible office, and our account be- 
fore the tribunal of Jesus Christ must be solemn and 
awful; and it will not do to relinquish the proper 
work of our calling, upon the pretext of seeking our 
own salvation. Our own seeking will be entirely 
unavailing, without the aid and blessing of God, and 
this we may expect most confidently, when we are 
diligently engaged in doing his work', which is alw 
the duties of our station and calling. Active duty 
must be performed as long as we have strength for 
the work ; and like the Levites, we must attend around 
die tabernacle and altar, when we are too old for 
more laborious services. Many of the faithful ser- 
vants of God have expressed a strong desire not to 
outlive their usefulness; and some have wished that 
their departure might occur in the very act of preach- 
ing. These things we may better leave to the wis- 
dom of God, who directs all the circumstances of the 
death of his people, as well as of their lives. Even 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 297 

when Dy bodily infirmities, the servants of God are 
obliged to desist from public labours, they do not cease 
from serving their Master; their lives afe not useless. 
His name is as much honoured by patient submission 
and cheerful resignation, as by zealous public exertion ; 
and the greatest and most effectual work which can be 
performed by any on earth, they can perform — I mean 
the offering of prayers and intercessions, day and 
night, at the throne of grace. Let not the infirm and 
aged say, that they can now do nothing for God. They 
can do much; and for ought they can tell, more than 
they ever did in the days of their vigour. It is a 
beautiful sight to see men laden with fruit, even in old 
age. Such fruits are generally more mature than those 
of earlier days; and the aged saint often enjoys a 
tranquillity and repose of spirit, which is almost pecu- 
liar to that age. David, or whoever is the author of 
the 71st Psalm, prays most earnestly a prayer winch 
should be daily on the lips of the aged, "Cast me not 
off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my 
strength faileth." And again, " Now when I am old 
and grey-headed, forsake me not, until I have showed 
thy strength to this generation, and thy power to all 
that are to come." Let the aged then tell to those that 
come after them, the works of divine grace which they 
have witnessed or which their fathers have told them. 
Let them be active as long as they can, and when 
bodily strength faileth, let them wield the pen ; or if 
unable to write for the edification of the church, iet 
them exhibit a consistent and shining example of the 
Christian temper, in kindness and good will to all ; in 
uncomplaining patience ; in contented poverty ; in 
cheerful submission to painful providences; and in 
mute resignation to the bereavement of their dearest 
friends. And when death comes, let them not be afraid 
or dismayed; then will be the time to honour God by 
implicitly and confidently trusting in his promises. Let 
them " against hope believe in hope." It is by faith that 
the last enemy must be conquered. He that belie vcth 
shall not be confounded, in this trying hour. The great 
Shepherd will not forsake his redeemed flock, foi 



298 THOUGHTS ON 

whom he has shed his blood; and though the adver 
sary may rage and violently assault dying 
h ■ shall nol Overcome them. Bach one of them i 
with humble confid >ugh 1 walk thro 

the valley and shadow of death, I will fear no i 
for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they com- 
fort me." 

Lei us not desire to make a parade and ostentatious 
display on a dying bed. Death has been called the 
honest hour, but hypocrisy may be practised even on 
;i dying bed. Although this event often rev 
and brings deceived souls to a conviction of the sandy 
foundation on which they have built thru- ho] 
some keep on the mask to the last moment M 
however, suppress the expression of their fe 
distress of mind. So much is said often about the 
manner in which persons meet death, that good 

men have wished and requested to be lefi very much 
alone: they have feared lest they should be tem| 
to vain-glory, even on a dying bed; or they h 
feared lest their courage should fail them in the hist 
struggle, and they should, through pain and imbecility 
o[ mind, be left to bring dishonour on their profession. 
The late excellent and evangelical Simeon of Cam- 
budge, seems to have'been under the influence of a 
feeling of this kind. But the best and safest w; 
submissively to commit all the circumstances of our 
death unto God, 

We have no conception of the soul, but as a think- 
ing, active being. The body is merely an organ, or 
instrument by which the soul acts while conne< 
with it; indeed, it cannot be demonstrated that the 
soul performs all its acts hero by the use of this organ. 
But whether or not, is of little consequence. We 
ftnow that activity belongs to the soul, not to t\m 
body; and it would be a strange conclusion, that thai 
which is essentially active, should cease to act, beca 
it had been deprived of oik 1 set of organs. The 
only legitimate inference is that when separated from 
the body, the mode of action is different from what 
it was before. As we learn the various operations 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 299 

of the soul, only by experience, it is plain, that we 
cannot fully understand or explain the precise mode 
of its action after it is separated from the body. t Paul 
teaches us, that the soul may exist and have conscious 
exercises of a very exalted kind ; for he says, speak- 
ing of his rapture into heaven, " Whether in the body 
or out of the body, I cannot tell." Now, if the soul 
could not act without the body, he could have told 
certainly that he was in the body, when he witnes 
in the third heavens, things which it is not lawful for 
a man to utter. But this truth is taught more clearly 
and directly by Christ himself, when he said to the 
penitent thief, on the cross, " This day shalt thou be 
with me in Paradise." This testimony is of itself 
abundantly sufficient, and there is no evasion of its 
force, but by an interpretation so frigid and far-fetched, 
that it only serves to betray the weakness of the 
cause which it is brought to support. Paul, in an- 
other passage, speaks clearly and explicitly on this 
point: ki Therefore, we are always confident, know- 
ing that whilst we are at home in the body, we are 
absent from the Lord. We are confident, I say, and 
willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be 
present with the Lord." In the previous context this 
apostle intimates that when the clay tabernacle is 
dissolved, the soul will not be found naked, but that 
there will be another house ready to receive it ; so 
that it will not be unclothed, but clothed upon. " For," 
says he, " in this we groan, earnestly desiring to be 
clothed upon with our house, which is from heaven ; 
if so be that being clothed, we shall not be found 
naked. For we that are in this tabernacle do 
groan, being burdened, not that we would be un- 
clothed but clothed upon, that mortality might be 
swallowed up of life." It would seem, then, that the 
soul is never without a suitable dwelling: it will not 
be unclothed; it only passes from one house to an 
other — from an earthly to a heavenly habitation 
But w^hat this celestial clothing will be, of course we 
cannot now tell. When Stephen was dying, he cried 
" Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." The Lord Jesus is 



300 



THOUGHTS ON 



every where near to his saints ; and as he watcher 
over his sheep daring their whole passage through 
the wilderness, so He is especially near to them, 
when they come to the "valley and shadow of Death,'* 
so that, they may then sing with the sweet psalmist of 
Israel, u When 1 walk through tin 1 valley and shadow 
of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy 
rod and thy Staff they comfort me." Hut as Ji 
the Lord has his residence in heaven, where he occu- 
pies a place on the throne of God, at the right hand 
of the Father, "and is surrounded by an innumera 
host ready to execute all his commandments; so he 
commissions messengers to attend at the dying bed of 
believers, and r the spirits of the jusl and eon- 

duct them to his presence. It is evident that the de- 
parting soul will need :i guide and convoy, for utterly 
ignorant of the glorious w<>.M into which it has en- 
tered, it would not know which way to direct its 

course, or where to find us allotted mansion. For 

heaven is a wide domain — the lions.' of the Father of 

our Lord Jesus Christ, has many m lnsions, and ev< ry 

redeemed soul Iris provided for it, an appropriate 
residence, for Christ •• I go to prepare a 

place for you.'' And that guardian angels are sent 
to perform these kind offices for departed saints, we 
are not left to conjecture, tor we read, that etfl 
Lazarus died, he -was carried by the angels into 
Abraham's bosom." There is no reason for supposing 
that the privilege now conferred on the I 
peculiar to him; every saint needs the guidance and 
guardianship of angels as well as Lazarus; and we 
may conclude, therefore, that angels will attend on 
every departing saint. 

Although we cannot now understand, how the 
soul will act in the future world, when divested ol 
the body of clay; we cannot doubt that its consci< 
ness of its identity will go with it. The memory of 
tne past, instead of being obliterated, will, in all pro- 
bability, be much more perfect, than while the per- 
son lived upon earth. It is by no means incredible, that 
memory, in the future world, will present to men, 






RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 301 

every thing which they have ever known, and every 
transaction in which they were ever engaged. The 
susceptibility of joyful emotions will also accompany 
the soul into the invisible world ; and one of the first 
feelings of the departed saint, will be a lively sense 
of complete deliverance from all evil, natural and 
moral. The pains of death will be the last pangs 
ever experienced. When these are over, the soul 
will enjoy the feelings of complete salvation from 
every distress. What a new and delightful sensa- 
tion will it be, to feel safe from every future danger, 
as well as saved from all past trouble. But the most 
important change experienced at this time, will be a 
perfect purification of the soul from sin. The soul, 
heretofore struggling with inbred corruption, which 
damped its ardour, darkened its views, and stupefied its 
feelings, now can act without any moral obstruction. 
Who that has often complained, like Paul, "0 wretch- 
ed man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body 
of this death?" but will feel this to be indeed heaven 
begun, when there will no more be felt any secret 
working of pride, or envy, or selfishness; but when 
it shall be pure, and sweetly conscious of its own 
purity? As perfection in holiness supposes a clear 
knowledge of spiritual objects; so we know, that we 
shall no more see the divine glory, as it were, by re- 
flection from a glass, but directly, or "face to face." 
The soul of man, though probably greatly enlarged 
in its powers, may have new faculties developed, for 
which there was no use here, and of which it had 
no consciousness ; yet the field of knowledge being 
boundless, and our minds being capable of attending 
only to one thing at a time, our knowledge of celes- 
tial things will be gradually acquired, and not per- 
fected at once. Indeed, there can be no limit set to 
the progression in knowledge ; it will be endless 
And no doubt the unalloyed pleasures of the future 
state, will be intimately connected with this continual 
increase of divine knowledge. And as here, know- 
ledge is acquired by the aid of instructors, why may 
not the same be the fact in heaven ? What a delight- 

26 






S02 THOUGHTS ON 

ful employment to the saints who have been drink- 
ing iu the knowledge of God and his works for thou- 
sands of years, to communicate instruction to the 
saint just arrived! How delightful to conduct the pil- 
grim who has just finished his race, through the evei 
blooming bowers of paradise, and to introduce him to 
ihis and the other ancient believer, and to assist him tc 
find out and recognize, among so great a multitude, 
friends and earthly relatives. There need be no 
pute about our knowing, in heaven, those whom we 
knew and loved here; for if there should be no faculty 
by which they could at once 1"' recognized, yet by ex- 
tended and familiar intercourse with the celestial in- 
habitants, it cannot be otherwise but that interesting 
discoveries will be made continually; and theunexp 
ed recognition <>f old friends may be one of the son 
of pleasure which will render heaven so pleasant. But 
as the Qeshly bond of relationship is dissolved, at death, 
it seems reasonable to think, that the only bond of 
union and kindred in heaven, will be the spiritual bond, 
winch unites all believers in one body, and to Christ 
their living head; therefore, we may presume, that 
there will be fell an ardent desire to form an acquaint- 
ance with the most remarkable personages, who have 
lived from Adam downward. Who, if admitted into 
paradise, could repress his curiosity to see, and if 
possible, to converse with the progenitor o( our 
race? Doubtless, he could tell us some things which 
we do not fully understand. And who would not 
wish to see the first person who ever entered those 
Dlessed abodes from our earth? Aye. and Enoch 
too, who never tasted death, and who still p 
Besses his original body, changed and glorified, it 
is true, but still substantially the same? We might 
>ect to find him in the company of Elijah, who is 
ilarly circumstanced; and some think that the 
body of Moses, though it was dead and buried, i 
raised again, as he seems to have appeared in his 
own proper body on the mount of Transfiguration. 
And where is Abraham, that, venerable saint, who in 
faith and obedience exceeded all other men, and ob- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 303 

tained from God the honourable appellation of " the 
Father of the Faithful," and the friend of God? And 
who would be in heaven ever so short a time, with- 
out desiring to see Paul, the apostle of the Gentiles: 
and not him only, but Peter, and John, and all the 
college of the apostles? But methinks we are in dan- 
ger of indulging our imaginations too far, and of trans- 
ferring to a heavenly state, too many of the feelings 
and associations of our earthly condition. And I am 
reminded also, that "as the twinkling stars are lost in 
the blaze of the rising sun, so there is one Person in 
the highest heavens, visible to all who enter that place, 
whose glory irradiates all the celestial mansions; whose 
love and smiles diffuse ineffable joy through all the 
heavenly hosts, and in whom every believer has an 
absorbing interest with which no other can be com- 
pared. On his head he wears many crowns, and in 
his hand he holds a sceptre by which he governs the 
universe ; but yet he exhibits, visibly, the marks of a 
violent death, which, for us, he once endured. His 
name is, The Word of God, King of Kings, and 
Lord of Lords, The Alpha and Omega, The Al 
mighty. And behold, all the angels of God worship 
Him. And the host of the redeemed, which no man 
can number, sing a song of praise to the Lamb, which 
no man can learn, except those that are redeemed from 
among men; for the burden of their song is, " To Him 
that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own 
blood. These are they that have washed their robes, 
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." 
Every redeemed soul, upon being admitted into hea- 
ven, will, for a while, be so completely absorbed in the 
contemplation of that divine person, that he will be 
incapable of paying much attention to any others. 
Like that Armenian princess, of whom Xenophon 
gives an account, who, after all the rest of the company 
had been expressing their admiration of Cyrus, one 
praising one thing and one another, upon being asked 
what about this royal personage nhe admired most, 
answered, that she did not even look at him, because 
h^ r whole attention had been absorbed in admiring 



304 THOUGHTS ON 

him (her young husband) who had offered to die lb, 
her. But the saved sinner may say, that his attention 
was completely absorbed in gazing upon Him, who 
not only said that He would die for him, but who 
actually did die in his place, and by this sacrifice re- 
deemed him from the curse of the law, and from all 
iniquity. The sweet and intimate intercourse which 
the redeemed soul will have with his Saviour cannot 
now be conceived : it will far transcend all the ideas 
which we now can form; and will be a perfection of 
bliss so great that nothing can be added to it in any 
other way, than by an increase of the capacity of the 
soul. But still, all that is enjoyed in tins intermediate 
state between death and judgment, is but a part of 
that felicity to which the redeemed of t lie Lord are 
destined hereafter. It is only the enjoyment of a sepa- 
rate soul : but * the exceeding greal and eternal weigh! 
of glory" laid up in heaven for the children of God is 
for the whole 1 man, made up of soul and body; and as 
even in this world many pleasures are enjoyed by 
means of bodily organs, who can tell what new and 
ever varying delights may be let into tin; soul by means 
of bodies of a celestial mould, bodies fashioned after the 
model of the glorious body of Jesus Christ! If our 
senses now bring to our view so many glorious obj 
both in the heavens and the earth, how rich and de- 
lightful will be the vision of the upper heavens by the 
eyes of the resurrection body? Then shall we see 
Jesus with our bodily eyes — then shall we behold 
what now no tongue can describe, nor even heart 
conceive. The departed saints, therefore, though bless- 
ed to the full amount of their present capacity, yet 
are living in joyful expectation of a more glorious 
state. We should not think that the redemption and 
resuscitation of the body is a small matter. The 
body is an essential part of human nature, and the 
glorified body will add to the felicity of the redeemed 
m a degree which we have no means of calculating. 
The inspired writers, therefore, when they speak of 
the blessedness of Heaven, speak sparingly of the 
state of the separate soul ; but when they describe the 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 305 

resurrection, they seem to be enraptured. Hear Paul, 
drawing a comparison between this mortal, corrupt, 
and earthly body, and that immortal, pure, and spi- 
ritual body, which will be possessed by every saint 
"It is sown in corruption; it is raised in incorruption 
It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory. It is 
sown in weakness; it is raised in power. It is sown 
a natural body ; it is raised a spiritual body. As we 
have borne the image of' the earthy, so shall we bear 
the image of the heavenly. For this corruptible must 
put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on im- 
mortality. " jNo sooner shall these resuscitated bo 
dies open their immortal eyes, than they shall behold 
the Son of Man coming in the clouds of Heaven 
And no sooner is the judgment set, than all these shah 
be caught up to meet the Lord in the air, and shah 
be so highly honoured as to have a place, as asses- 
sors, on the judgment seat with Him. And when 
the awful transactions of that day are ended, the re- 
deemed shall accompany their Lord and Saviour to 
Heaven, where they shall be put in full and eternal 
possession of that felicity and glory which Christ has 
purchased for them by his precious blood. In this 
sublime temple, their songs shall mingle with those of 
the holy angels, for ever and ever. It need not be 
supposed that saints in Heaven will be continually 
employed in nothing but praise. This, indeed, will be 
their noblest employment; and the anthems of praise 
to God and the Lamb will never cease ; but may we 
not reasonably suppose that the exercises and pursuits 
of the saints will be various ? The wonderful works of 
God will open to their contemplation. They may 
be employed, as angels are now, as messengers to 
distant worlds, either as instruments of justice or 
mercy : for we find that the angels are employed in 
both these ways. While, then, one choir surrounds 
the throne, and elevates the celestial song of praise 
for redemption, others may be employed in executing 
the commands of their Lord ; and then, in their turn, 
these last may keep up the unceasing praise, while 
the first go forth on errands of mercv or wrath. 

26* 



306 THOUGHTS ON 

vSome have divided the angels into assisting and 
ministering : the first are supposed to be always en- 
gaged in acts of worship, while the last are always 
employed in other services. But it would be much 
more reasonable to suppose, that they all, in turn, take 
their part in both these services. Here, however, it be- 
comes us to pause, and in deep humility, on account 
of our ignoraiiee- and unworthiness. to put our hands 
on our mouths, and our mouths in the dust. We are 
slow to learn earthly things 5 how then can we com- 
prehend those which are heavenly? Hut if we 
the children of God, we shall have experience of these 
celestial employments and never ending joya 3 

very soon, these things which arc now dimly discerned 

by means 01' faith, will he realized, when every hum- 

ble saint shall appear with Christ in glory, and shall 
never he exposed any more to danger or suffering. 

Let us, then, now begin the son- which shall nevei 
cease to 1 1 1 111 that loved us and washed us fro in our 
sins in his own precious blood. 



ELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 307 



PRAYER 

FOR ONE WHO FEELS THAT HE IS APPROACHING THE 
BORDERS OF ANOTHER WORLD. 

most merciful God ! I rejoice that thou dost reign 
over the universe with a sovereign sway, so that thou 
dost according to thy will, in the armies of heaven 
and among the inhabitants of the earth. Thou art the 
maker of my body, and Father of my spirit, and thou 
hast a perfect right to dispose of me, in that manner 
which will most effectually promote thy glory : and I 
know that whatsoever thou dost, is right, and wise, and 
just, and good. And whatever may be my eternal 
destiny, I rejoice in the assurance that thy great name 
will be glorified in me. But as thou hast been pleased 
to reveal thy mercy and thy grace, to our fallen mise- 
rable world ; and as the word of this salvation has 
been preached unto me, inviting me to accept of eternal 
life, upon the gracious terms of the gospel, I do cor- 
dially receive the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour and 
only Redeemer, believing sincerely the whole testi- 
mony which thou hast given respecting his divine 
character, his real incarnation, his unspotted and holy 
life, his numerous and beneficent miracles, his expia- 
tory and meritorious death, and his glorious resurrec 
tion and ascension. I believe, also, in his supreme 
exaltation, in his prevalent intercession for his chosen 
people, in his affectionate care and aid afforded to his 
suffering members here below, and in his second com- 
ing to receive his humble followers to dwell with him- 
self in heaven ; and to take vengeance on his obstinate 
enemies. My only hope and confidence of being 
saved, rests simply on the mediatorial work and pre- 
vailing intercession of the Lord Jesus Christ ; in con- 
sequence of which the Holy Spirit is graciously sent 
to make application of Christ's redemption, by work- 



308 THOI am 9 on 

ing faith in us, and repentance unto life ; and rendei 
us meet for the heavenly inheritance, by sanctifying 
in the whole man, soul, body, and spirit. Grant, 
cious God ! thai the rich bl< issings of the new covenant 
may be freely fo I on thy unworthy servant. I 

acknowledge that I have no claim to thy favour, on 
account of any goodness in me by nature; i 
there dwelleth in me, thai is in my flesh, no L r <»<»«l th 
nor on account of any ' done by- 

me ; for all our right< 
Neither am I able to n tnemenl for an) 

my innumerable transgressions ; which I confess 
thee, are not only many in number, but heinous in their 
nature, justly deserving thy dis] e and wrath 

thai if i were immedi , hou wou 

be altogether just in my condemnation. Although I 
trust, thai I have endeavoui e with s< 

degree of sincerity ; yet \\ : > I thing I I 

ever done, or even thought, I ascribe entirely to thy 
ce, without which I can do nothing acceptable in 
thy sight. And 1 am deep inced, that my best 

duties have fallen far short of th ction of thy 

law, and h n so mingled with sin in the per- 

formance, that I might justly be condemned for the 
mqsl fervent prayer I ever made. And I would con- 
jess with shame and contrition, that I am not o 
chargeable with sin in the act, but that there 
in my members, warring against the law of my mind, 
aiming to bring me into captivity to the law of sin and 
death. This corrupt nature is the source of innu- 
merable evil thoughts and deques, and damps the 
exercise of faith and love, and stands m the way 
of well-doing, so that when I would (\o good, evil is 
present with me. And so deep and powerful is this 
remaining depravity, that all efforts to erad 
subdue it, are vain without the aid of divin< 
And when at any time I obtain a glimpse ^i the depth 
and turpitude of the sin of my nature, I am o\ 
whelmed, and constrained to exclaim with Job, *• I 
abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes/* And 
now, Righteous Lord God Almighty, I would not 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 309 

attempt to conceal any of my actual transgressions, 
however vile and shameful they are. But would pe- 
nitently confess them before thee ; and would plead 
in my defence, nothing but the perfect righteous- 
ness of the Lord Jesus Christ, who died, the just 
for the unjust, to bring us near to God. For his sake 
alone, do I ask or expect the rich blessings necessary 
to my salvation. For although I am unworthy, he 
is most worthy ; though I have no righteousness, lie 
has provided by his expiatory death, and by his holy 
life, a complete justifying righteousness, in which spot- 
less robe I pray that I may be clothed; so that thou 
my righteous Judge, wilt see no sin in me, but wilt 
acquit me from every accusation, and justify me 
freely by thy grace, through the righteousness of my 
Lord and Saviour, with whom thou art ever well 
pleased. And my earnest prayer is, that Jesus may 
save me from my sins, as well as from their punish- 
ment; that I maybe redeemed from all iniquity, as 
well as from the condemnation of the law ; that the 
work of sanctification may be carried on in my soul 
by thy word and Spirit, until it be perfected at thine 
appointed time. And grant, Lord ! that as long as 
I am in the body, I may make it my constant study 
and chief aim to glorify thy name, both with soul 
and body, which are no longer mine, but thine ; for I 
am "bought with a price" — not with silver and gold, 
but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb 
without blemish and without spot. Enable me to let 
my light so shine, that others, seeing my good works, 
may be led to glorify thy name. 0! make use of 
me as an humble instrument of advancing thy king- 
dom on earth, and promoting the salvation of immor- 
tal souls. If thou hast appointed sufferings for me, 
here below, I beseech thee to consider my weakness, 
and let thy chastisements be those of a loving father, 
that I may be made partaker of thy holiness. And 
let me not be tempted above what I am able to bear, 
but with the temptation make a way for escape. 

most merciful God ! cast me «not off in the 
time of old age ; forsake me not when my strength 



310 THOUGHTS ON 

declineth. Now, when I am old and grey-headed, 
forsake me not ; but let thy grace be sufficient for me ; 
and enable me to bring forth fruit, even in old age. 
May my hoary head be found in the ways of n_ 
eousness ! Preserve my mind from dotage and im- 
becility, and my body from pro' ana 
excruciating pain. Deliver me from despondency 
and discouragement, in my declining ind ena- 
ble me to bear affliction with patience, fortitude, and 
perfect submission to thy holy will. Lift upon me per- 
petually the light of thy reconciled countenance, and 
cause me to rejoice in thy salvation, and in (lie hope 
of thy glory. May the peace thai passeth all under- 
standing he constantly diffused through my soul, so that 
my mind may remain calm through all tin; storms and 
vicissitudes of life." 
As, in the course of nature, I must he drawing near 

to my end, and as I know I must soon put oil' this 
tabernacle, I do humbly and earnestly beseech thee, 

Father of mercies, to prepare me for this inevitable 

and solemn event. Fortify my mind against the ter- 
rors of death. Give me, if n please the", an < 
passage through ti of death. Dissipate the 

dark clouds and mists which naturally hang over the 
grave, and lead me gently down into the gloomy val- 
ley. my kind Shepherd, who hast tasted the bit- 
terness of death lor me, and who knowest how to 
sympathize with and succour the sheep of thy pas- 
ture, be thou present to guide, to support, and to 
comfort me. Illumine with beams of heavenly light 
the valley and shadow of death, so that I may fear 
no evil. When heart and flesh fail, be thou the 
strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. Let 
not my courage fail in the trying hour. Permit not 
the great adversary to harass my soul, in the last 
struggle, but make me a conqueror and more than a 
conqueror in this fearful conflict. I humbly ask that 
my reason may be continued to the last, and if it be 
thy will, that I may be so comforted and supported, 
that I may lea^g a testimony in favour of the reality 
af religion, and thy faithfulness in fulfilling thy gra- 



RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 311 

cious promises; and that others of thy servants who 
may follow after, may be encouraged by my example, 
to commit themselves boldly to the guidance and keep- 
ing of the Shepherd of Israel. 

And when my spirit leaves this clay tenement, 
Lord Jesus, receive it. Send some of the blessed an- 
gels to convoy my inexperienced soul to the mansion" 
which thy love has prepared. And ! let me be so 
situated, though in the lowest rank, that I may behold 
thy glory. May I have an abundant entrance admin- 
istered unto me into the kingdom of our Lord and Sa- 
viour Jesus Christ ; for whose sake, ar>d in whose 
name, I ask all these things. Amen. 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 



LETTER I. 

The autumn of our life has actually arrived. The 
scenes of our youth have fled forever ; and the feelings 
and hopes of that period have passed away also, or are 
greatly changed. When we take a retrospect of the 
past, several weighty reflections cannot but press upon 
our minds and sadden our hearts. How true do we 
now find that trite remark, that the longest life in the 
retrospect appears exceedingly short, though in pros- 
pect, the same period appeared almost interminable ! 
Old age has come upon us, (though its approaches were 
very gradual,) by surprise ; and even now, except when 
feeling something of the infirmities of age, or when 
viewing our altered image in the mirror, we are prone 
to forget that we are old; and often are impelled to un- 
dertake labours to which our strength is no longer com- 
petent. Truly our life of three-score, or more, appears 
like a dream, when we awake from sleep. And as the 
past years have passed so quickly, the few that remain 
will not be less rapid in their flight. Indeed, to the 
aged, except when they are suffering protracted pain, 
time appears shorter than it did when they were young. 
Thus at least it seems to the writer : the year, when its 
days and weeks and months are numbered, is as long as 
ever, but to our sense, it seems to grow shorter. We 
are less absorbed and interested in passing scenes than 
the young. Life has with us become a sober reality. 
The enchanting visions of a youthful imagination have 
now entirely vanished. But it brings a solemn and 
tenderly melancholy feeling over the minds of the aged 

21 313 



:>i i li r rsaa po phi igkd 

to inquire for the friends and companions of Iheir youth. 
How few of these ran wo now limi upon earth? The 
ministers whose labours were made useful to us, and 
the tund of whos - sweeter than the 

richest music, are now |j u ith the c oils of tlie 

valley. The beloved friends with whom we were wont 
to take sweet counsel, o whom wo could con- 

fidingly open our whole hearts, have been torn from 
our side. Many dear rela i ed it may be as our 

ow n life, ha\ ( slept the sleep of death. Time may have 

fuJ wounds made by such bereavem 
but their loss often l< &\ es a < hasm \\ hich can nevt 
supplied; and, at any rate, a scar which we shall carry 

flection connected v 

this Sill ! ul ; it is, mo in whom w o 

once delighted, and in whom we reposed strong con- 
. have turned from tin nth and 

- ss in which they a| l >o walk 

(hoy n Still « B king Up and down 

upon the earth, are dead to us, and to all those inter- 
. \\ hich once seemed to be common to them and us. 
And as to those who remain - •'. and have con- 

tinued their pilgrimage without turning aside 
citx sad change has time made upon 

thou* pei re is the bloom of youth, the robust 

strength of manhood, the eye sparkling with int 

and the countenance beaming with animation? 
v is! thoy are Bed; and in their place we see the de- 
crepid body, the sunken eye, the withered countenance, 
I the tottering gait. All are not equally chai 
of time. Indeed, to some the a 

lition of comelii 

S Well aS Y: 

e, in the sib s id countenai 

rj man. There is in his countenance a chastened 

tenignity and 9c . which « 

luce. 
But the bitterest of all refl< 
of sins committed, duties omitted, time op- 

portunities of doing good neglected. — Reflections 
this kind, at certain tunes, become tm. 






LETTERS TO THE AGED. 315 

And although we could not wish to go a second time 
through such a pilgrimage ; yet we cannot but wish often 
that with our present views, and with the aids of expe- 
rience, we could enjoy again the opportunities of useful- 
ness which were suffered to pass without improvement. 
But even in these painful regrets and this bitter repent- 
ance our deceitful hearts often impose upon us; and we 
give ourselves more credit for present good feelings 
than we deserve. For let us only ask ourselves, whether 
we now avail ourselves of all the advantages of our 
situation to do good. Are we not now guilty of as 
gross neglects, as when younger? The probability is, 
therefore, yea, the certainty, that if left to ourselves as 
much as we were, we should do no better, if we were per- 
mitted to live over our unprofitable lives a second time. 
But while we should lay aside all fruitless wishes, we 
ought certainly to reflect upon our sins and short-com- 
ings, until our godly sorrow is so enkindled within us, as 
to work a repentance not to be repented of. We cannot 
atone for our sins by tears of penitence ; for this we 
must have recourse to another fountain, even the blood 
of Christ, which cleanseth from all unrighteousness; 
but the flow of ingenuous, godly sorrow has a ten- 
dency to soften and purify the heart; and our iniquities 
are rendered by this means odious ; so that while we 
are penetrated with unfeigned gratitude to God for 
pardoning mercy, we are rendered more watchful 
against our besetting sins, and made to walk more ten- 
derly and circumspectly; and more humbly too : fori 
have thought, that the reason why a covenant-keeping 
God sometimes permits his children to fall into shame- 
ful acts of transgression, is because nothing else but 
such a sight of themselves as these falls exhibit, would 
sufficiently humble their proud hearts. The recollec- 
tion of such sins serves all their life long to convince 
them that they ought to place themselves among the 
c * chief of sinners" and "the least of saints." And this 
view of our exceeding depravity of heart, serves to 
show us the faithfulness and loving kindness of God in 
the strongest light. According to that which he speaks 
in Ezek. ch. xvi. 62. 63, " And I will establish my 



316 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

covenant with thee; and thou shah know that I am the 
Lord: that thou may est remember and be confounded, 
and never open thy mouth any more, because of ihy 
shame, when I am pacified toward thee for all that 
thou hast done, saith the Lord God." 

My aged friends, permit me to counsel you not to 
give way to despondency, and unprofitable repining at 
the course of past events. Trust in the Lord, and 
courage your hearts to hope in his mercy and faithful- 
ness. Your afflictions may have been many and Si 
and your present circumstances may be embarrassing, 
and your prospects for the future, gloomy. Provide 
may seem to have s»>! you up as a mark for the am 
of adversity. Stroke upon stroke has been experien< 
Billow after billow bas gone over you, and almost over- 
whelmed you. Truly the time has come, when you 
can say. -My joys are L r oiii'. M Hut though fri< 
have been snatched from you, or have proved unfaith- 
ful — though children, once your hope and joy are num- 
bered will the dead, or what is far worse, profligate or 
ungrateful; though your property has wasted away, 
or your riches suddenly taken wings and flown like 
the eagle to heaven; though bodily dis aid pain 

distress you; still trust in the divine promise, " I will 
never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Though friends 
die, God forever liveth. Though your earthly com- 
forts and supports are gone, you are heir to an inheri- 
tance " incorruptible, undefiled, and that never fadeth 
away." Take for your example the prophel I [abakkuk, 
who triumphantly declares, "Although the fig 
shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vil 
the labour of the olive shall fail, and the # fields shall 
yield no meat; the dock shall be cut off from the fold, 
and there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will re- 
joice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salva- 
tion." Learn to live by faith : no class of people need 
the supports of faith and hope more than the aged. — 
And not only believe, but act. " Work while it is 
called to-day." " To do good, and communicate, for- 
get not, for with such sacrifices, God is well pleased." 
Your work is never ended while you are in the body. It 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 317 

is a sad mistake for aged persons to relinquish their 
usual pursuits, and resign every thing into the hands of 
their children. Many have dated their distressing melan- 
choly from such a false step. The mind long accus- 
tomed to activity is miserable in a state of stagnation ; 
or rather having lost its usual nutriment, it turns and 
preys upon itself. Lighten your burdens, but do not 
give up business or study, or whatever you have been 
accustomed to pursue. Imbecility and dotage are also 
prevented or postponed, or mitigated, by constant exer- 
cise of the mind. Keep also as much of your property 
if you have any, in your own hand, as is necessary for 
your own support, and make not yourselves dependent 
on the most affectionate and obedient children. They 
will be more affectionate and more respectful when 
you are not dependent. Dismiss corroding cares and 
anxieties about what you shall do to get a living. 
How strange it is, that the nearer men come to the end 
of their journey, the greater concern they feel as to the 
means of future subsistence. God's hand will provide. 
His command to us is, " Be careful for nothing f^but in 
every thing by prayer and supplication with thanks- 
giving let your requests be made known unto God." 

"And the peace of God, which passeth all under- 
standing, shall keep your hearts and minds through 
Christ Jesus." 



LETTER II. 

As an aged man, I would say to my fellow-pilgrims 
who are also in this advanced stage of the journey of 
life, endeavour to be useful, as long as you are 
continued upon earth. We are, it is true, subject to 
many peculiar infirmities, both of body and mind, to 
bear up under which requires much exertion, and no 
small share of divine assistance; but still we have 
some advantages not possessed by the young. We 

27* 



318 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

have received important lessons from experience, which 
if they have been rightly improved, are of inestimable 
value. The book of divine providence, which is in a 
great measure sealed to them, has been unfolded to us. 
We can look back and contemplate all the way along 
which the Lord has led us. — We can now see the wise 
design of our Father, in many events, which, at the 
time, were dark and mysterious. The knowledge to 
be derived from studying the book of God's provi- 
dence, cannot be communicated to another; the lessons 
are like the name upon the white stone, which none 
can read but he that has it. The successive events of 
our lives we can make known, but the connexion 
which these events have with our character, our sins, 
and our prayers, can be fully understood only by our- 
selves, lie who neglects to study the pages of this 
book, deprives himself of one most important means 
of improvement; yet many professors of religion ap- 
pear to pay little or no attention to the providence of 
God, in relation to themselves. If they meet with 
some severe judgment, or some great deliverance, their 
attention is arrested, and they acknowledge the hand 
of God in the dispensation ; but as to the succession of 
ordinary events, they seem to have no practical belief 
that they are ordered by divine providence, or have 
any important relation to their duty or interest. I 
would affectionately entreat my aged brethren to make 
the dealings of God's providence towards themselves, 
a subject of careful study. There is within our reach, 
except in the Bible, no source of instruction more im- 
portant. And to aid you in this business, permit me 
to recommend to your careful perusal, two little vol- 
umes on Providence, which I have found useful and 
comfortable to myself. The first is, Flavel's u Mys- 
tery of Providence Opened" ; and the other is, Bos- 
ton's " Crook in the Lot." These excellent treatises 
may be read over and over again with profit. Per- 
haps, the best method of studying such books is, not to 
read the whole at once, or in a short time, but to 
peruse a few paragraphs at a time, and then reflect 
upon the subject, and make application of what we 



; 



JLETTKltS TO THE AGED. 31 <> 

read to our own case. And while I am recommend- 
ing works on this subject, I ought not to omit mention- 
ing Charnock's treatise on " Providence." I confess I 
am not so familiar with this as the treatises before 
mentioned, but I have found his other writings, espe 
cially those on the Divine Attributes, so surpassing in 
excellence, that I feel willing to recommend any thing 
which ever proceeded from his pen. 

I began this letter with an exhortation, to endeavour 
to be useful, while you live. To comply with this, 
you should, in the first place, guard vigilantly against 
those faults and foibles, into which old people are apt 
to fall. We must be careful not to mistake moroseness 
for seriousness, austerity for gravity, or discontent with 
our condition, for deadness to the world. 

Why should the aged be more peevish and morose 
than others? If they are pious, there can be no good 
reason for it ; but it is not difficult to account for the 
fact. In the decline of life a gradual change takes 
place in our physical system, by which the mind is 
considerably affected ; and often positive disease is 
added to this natural change. The nervous system is 
debilitated and shattered; and in consequence, the spi- 
rits are apt to sink, or to become irregular. To these 
may be added, the afflictions and disappointments 
which most experience in the course of a long life, by 
which the temper is apt to be soured. And when 
men, by reason of the decay of mind and body, be- 
come disqualified for the same active services which 
they were long accustomed to perform, and these fall 
into the hands of juniors, whom they knew when 
children, it is very natural to feel, as if the world was 
turning round — as if every thing was going wrong. 
Old men have always been wont to laud the times long 
past, when they were young, and to censure all the 
innovations which have come in since. Sometimes, 
also, the aged experience a neglect from the young, 
and even a want of respect from their own children, 
which is exceedingly mortifying, and tends much to 
foster that acerbity of temper so frequently found in 
the aged. But although these and other similar things 



320 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

may be truly pleaded in extenuation of the fauit under 
consideration ; yet they do by no means amount to an 
apology which exculpates us from blame. And that 
old age is not necessarily accompanied by these unami- 
able traits of character is proved by many happy ex- 
amples. Some aged persons exhibit an uniform cheer- 
fulness and serenity of mind; and the remarkable fact 
lias been recorded in regard to a few, that a naturally 
irritable temper has been softened and mellowed, in- 
stead of being exacerbated by old age. If I recollect 
rightly, this is mentioned as true in relation to the 
Rev. Dr. Rodgers of New York, by his biographer, 
my respected colleague, the Rev. Dr. Miller. The late 
venerable Dr. Livingston of the Dutch Reformed 
Church, President of their College and Seminary, was 
distinguished by uniform cheerfulness to a very ad- 
vanced age; and his cordial and affectionate manners 
Were remarked and frit by all who approached him. 
The Rev. John Newton, of London, seems to have 
possessed, with large measures of divine grace, a very 
happy physical temperament. It is delightful to con- 
template the old age of such a man. And while I am 
mentioning recorded examples of a temper in old age 
deserving of imitation. I would recall to the remem- 
brance of my readers the case of the Rev. Dr. Thomas 
Scott, who, at a period o\ life when most men relin- 
quish all severe labour, actually undertook to learn the 
Arabic language, that he might be able to give instruc- 
tion to the missionaries going to the East. It lias often 
been noticed, that piety is apt to decline with the de- 
cline of manly vigour. If this be really a common 
avent, it is exceedingly to be deplored. But, perhaps, 
it is more in appearance than reality. It requires much 
stronger faith, and feelings of warmer piety to enable 
an old man to go forward in his course with zeal and 
alacrity, than for a young man, who is buoyed up and 
borne along by the vigour of youthful passions, to do 
the same. But I rejoice to know, that piety does not 
always even appear to grow cold, by the descent into 
the vale of years. In some Christians it evidently goes 
on advancing \ and their growth in grace is much more 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 321 

rapid in this period of life, than any other. * As they 
approach nearer to heaven, their hearts and their con- 
versation are more in heaven. O that it might be thus 
with us all ! As these letters are intended also for my 
aged friends of the female sex, I would recommend to 
their notice and imitation the old age of Mrs. Hannah 
More. From her first appearance as a Christian, she 
seems to have gone on advancing in evangelical know- 
ledge, and ardent piety, until she was completely super- 
annuated. And even then, she lost nothing of the 
respect and affection, which by her pious and benevo- 
lent labours she had gained ; for still, when her memo- 
ry was so impaired that she did not remember the 
books she had written, the elevation of her piety and 
the enlargement of her benevolence remained unim- 
paired. And it is truly a delightful thought that when 
in the wreck of mind, the whole cargo of knowledge 
seems to be lost, and parents no longer recognize their 
own children, religion, where it was possessed, still 
remains. Jesus Christ is never forgotten. Pious 
sentiments are never obliterated. Cicero in his beau- 
tiful little treatise on Old Age, in which many judicious 
and pleasing sentiments are expressed, when speaking 
of the decay of the memory, says, that he never heard 
of a miser forgetting the place where he had buried 
his treasure. What the mind prizes most is longest 
retained in memory. It is often remarked, and justly, 
'how beautiful does unaffected piety appear in youthP 
But it may as truly be said, ' how amiable and vene- 
rable is exalted piety in old age !' 

It has been said that avarice is peculiarly the sin of 
age : we often hear of an old, but scarcely ever of 
a young miser. This may be true in regard to those 
who have cherished the love of the world all their 
lives. They will hug their treasures with a closer 
grasp, and their affections will be more concentrated on 
them, when other objects are removed ; but this vice 
does not originate in old age, it is only the mature fruit 
of the seed planted in early life ; and though it becomes 
deeply radicated in old age, it is not now so much the 
desire of acquiring wealth, as of holding fast what they 



322 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

have got: The folly of the miser who hoards his 
money without a thought of using it, is easily shown, 
and has often been ridiculed. But the truth is, that all 
ardent pursuit of worldly objects beyond what is n< 
sary for the real wants of nature, might be demon- 
strated to be equally absurd. But whatever men of 
the world may do, let not Christians dishonour their 
holy profession by an inordinate love of the world 
Especially, let not the aged professor brum into doubt 
the sincerity of his religion, by manifesting a covetous 
disposition. "Take heed," said the Great Teacher, 
"and beware of covetousness ; for a man's life row- 
sisteth not in the abundance of the things which he 
possesseth." Many begin the world with little, and 
the claims of an increasing family render it necessary 
to exercise much diligence and economy to make a 
living; but thus it often happens that an avaricious 
disposition under the semblance of necessity, and even 
of duty, strikes its roots deep into the soul, ere the 
man is aware of any danger. Indeed, it is almost im- 
possible to convince a man of the sin of covetous,; 
while he avoids open acts of injustice or fraud. Dear 
friends, it is time for many of you to give up the fur- 
ther pursuit ol* wealth ; unless your obj< «'t is to acquire 
the means of doing good. But beware ol' the deceit- 
fulness of the heart. Covetousness will allow you to 
2jro??iise such an appropriation of your gains. But 
put yourselves to the test by a simple experiment. 
Ask yourselves whether you are now willing to make 
that use of the property which God has given you, 
that his honour and the advancement of Christ's king- 
dom require. If you indeed find in yourself that 
disposition to consecrate all that you have to the glory 
of God, then it may be lawful to go on to acquire fur- 
ther means of usefulness. But whatever you now 
possess, or may hereafter acquire of this world's goods, 
for your soul's sake, set not your affections on these 
perishable things. Be not proud of your wealth. 
Neglect not while you live, to do good and communi- 
cate. Remember that you are but the stewards of the 
wealth which you possess, and therefore it is required 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 3^3 

of you to be faithful in the distribution of what is put 
into your hands. If you have tried the plan of parsi- 
mony, lest you should lessen your estate, now try the 
plat: of wise liberality, and see whether that saying of 
Christ is not verified by experience, that " It is more 
blessed to give than to receive." 

Whether in the former periods of our lives, we have 
had prosperity or have passed through the deep waters 
of affliction, it is nearly certain that in our old age we 
shall feel the strokes of adversity. If our friends have 
been preserved in life thus far, yet we know they must 
all die. If hithe;to we have enjoyed uninterrupted 
health, yet now we must expect to encounter pain and 
disease. — Old age itself may be called the common dis- 
ease of our nature, which can only be escaped by 
death. Mr. Newton, in one of his last letters, says 
that he had but one disease, but that was incurable, 
which was old age. Then, my dear friends, let us set 
an example of patience and cheerful resignation under 
the nifiiciions which may be laid upon us. The pas- 
sive virtues are more difficult to be exercised than the 
active ; and God is perhaps more honoured by quiet 
submission to his will under sufferings, than "by the 
greatest achievements of zeal and exertion. Rut let 
us never forget that we have not the least strength in 
ourselves. We are dependent on the grace of God for 
every good thought and desire. But if we trust in 
Him we shall never be ashamed. 



LETTER III. 

I have no doubt that you have remarked with sur 
prise, that the impression of the reality and importance 
of eternal things is not increased by the nearness of 
your approach to the end of your course. Time glides 
insensibly away, and it is with us in this respect, as m 
relation to the globe on which we reside. While other 



324 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

things appear to be in motion, our feeling is that we are 
stationary. The mere circumstance of being old seems 
to affect no one with a more lively concern about the 
salvation of the soul. — None appear to be more blind 
and stupid in regard to religious matters, than many 
who are tottering on the brink of the grave. This, in- 
deed, is so commonly the fact, with those who have 
grown old without religion, that very little hope is en 
tertained of the conversion of the aged, who have from 
their youth enjoyed the means of grace. And it is also 
a fact, that real Christians are not rendered more deeply 
sensible of the awful importance of eternal things, by 
becoming old and infirm. The truth is, thai nothing 
but an increase of faith by the operation of the Holy 
Spirit, will be effectual to prepare us for thai change 
which we know is rapidly approaching. Counsels and 
exhortations, however, are not to be neglected, as God 
is pleased to work l»y means. I have, therefore, under- 
taken to address to you such considerations as occur to 
me Having already spoken of the infirmities and sins 
which are apt to cleave to us in advanced years, 1 pro- 
pose in this letter, to inquire what are the peculiar duties 
incumbent on the aged. What would the Lord have 
us to do ? — for undoubtedly, we are not privileged to 
fold our hands, and sit down in idleness, as if our work 
was ended. Indeed, it would be no privilege to be 
exempt from all occupation. Such a life to the aged 
or the young, must be a life of misery ; for man never 
was made to be idle, and his happiness is intimately 
connected with activity. We may be no longer quali- 
fied for those labours which require much bodily 
strength — we may, indeed, be so debilitated or crippled 
by disease, that we can scarcely move our crazy frame 
— and some among us may be vexed with excruciating 
pain — yet still we have a work to perform for God, 
and for our generation. If we cannot use our hands 
and feet, so as to be useful in the labours which we 
were wont to perform, yet we may employ our tongues 
to speak the praises of our God and Saviour. We may 
drop a word of counsel to those around us; and espe- 
cially, the aged owe a duty to the young, to whom 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 325 

they may have access, and who are related to them. 
Every aged Christian must have acquired much know- 
ledge from experience, which he should be ready to 
communicate as far as it is practicable. Why is it, my 
dear friends, that we suffer so many opportunities of 
usefulness to pass without improvement? Why are. we 
so often silent, when the suggestions of our own con- 
science urge us to speak something for God? How is 
it, that we consume hours in unprofitable talk, and 
seldom attempt to say any thing which can profit the 
hearers? We may plead inability — we may excuse 
ourselves, because we are unlearned and not able 
to speak eloquently and correctly — but let us be 
honest; is not the true reason because our own hearts 
are so little affected with these things? We cannot 
consent to play the hypocrite, by uttering sentiments 
which we do not feel; and we have often been dis- 
gusted with the attempts of others, who, in a cold and 
constrained manner, have introduced religious conver- 
sation. It is easy to see where the fault lies; it is in 
the state of our own hearts. Let us never rest, then, 
until we find ourselves in a better state of mind. Let 
us get our hearts habitually under the influence of 
divine things, and then conversation on this subject, 
will be as easy as on any other. M Out of the abundance 
of the heart, the mouth speaketh." There are com- 
panies and occasions, when to obtrude remarks on re- 
ligion, would be unseasonable and imprudent; for we 
must not cast our pearls before swine : but, in most 
cases, an aged person may give utterance to season- 
able and solemn truths, without offence — and very often 
a word spoken in season, has been the means of saving 
a soul ; and the advice and exhortation of parents and 
pious friends, are remembered and prove salutary, after 
their heads are laid low under the clods of the valley. 

I have often heard aged persons, incapable any longer 
of active service, express surprise that their unprofitable 
lives were so long protracted ; while the young and 
laborious servants of God were cut off in the midst of 
their years. The dispensations of God are indeed in- 
scrutable — " his ways are past finding out" — and we 

28 



326 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

are too little acquainted with his counsels, to sit in 
judgment on them. But I would say to those who 
think that they can be of no further use in the world, 
that they do not form a just estimate of the nature of 
the service which God requires, and by which he is 
glorified by his creatures upon earth. All true obe- 
dience originates in the heart, and con sentially 
of the affections of the heart : external duties air to be 
performed, hut are only holy as connected with holy 
motives. The aged man may serve Ciod. therefore, 
sincerely and fervently as any others, if only th»' heart 
he right in the sight of God, He can glorify God in 
his spirit, by thinking affectionately of his glorious 
name, by contemplating his divme attributes, and by 
exercising love and gratitude towards him. — His d< 
lion might thus approach more nearly to our concep- 
tions of the services and exercises of the saints in 

heaven. But it may he that the lives of some are 

lengthened out, that they may oiler up many prayers 
for the church and lor the world : for, after all the ac- 
tivity and bustle and zeal apparent, there is no service 
which can he performed by mortals, so effect ua 
prayer. — Here there is a work to which the aged may 
be devoted. While Joshua ami the men of war contend 
with the Amalekites in the battle. Moses assists by 
lifting up his hands in prayer ; and when he is, through 
fatigue, no longer able to hold them up. he is assisted 
by Aaron on one side, and Hur on the other. If you 
cannot preach, you earn by prayer, hold up the hands 
of those who do. You can follow the missionary, who 
leaves all to go and labour in heathen lands, with your 
daily and fervent prayers. It is not in vain for yon to 
live, while you have access to a throne of grace. Be- 
fore the advent of Christ, there were some aged per- 
sons who seem to have been preserved in life, that they 
might pray for this event, and that they mud it ei 
the pleasure of seeing the answer of their pray* rs, 
and embracing Him in their arms, whom they had so 
often embraced by faith. While all around was spiri- 
tual death and desolation, and corruption and error had 
infected all classes, from the priesthood downward, 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 327 

there was a little band who had taken up their resi- 
dence in the temple, or often frequented this holy place, 

who were waiting for the consolation of Israel. Two 
of these were Simeon and Anna; but theie were others 
of the same character ; for we read that this very aged 
and pious widow, who departed not from the temple, 
but served God with fasting and prayers, night and 
day, " spake of Christ after she had seen him, to all 
them who looked for redemption in Israel." The 
darker the times, the more closely do the truly pious 
adhere to each other. This little knot of praying peo- 
ple knew each other, and no doubt spake often one to 
another ; and in this case, the Lord hearkened and 
iieard ; for the object of their desires and prayers was 
given to them. Was the life of Anna an unprofitable 
life, although she never left the temple, and did nothing 
but fast and pray ? Was Simeon a useless member of 
the church, because he was probably too old for labour? 
The truth was — and the same is often verified — that 
the true church of God was at this time confined to a 
few pious souls ; while the priests and the scribes and 
the rulers, had neither part nor lot in the matter. As 
God preserved Simeon, according to a promise made 
to him, until he saw the Lord's Christ, so he may be 
lengthening out the lives of some of you, my aged 
brethren, until you may have the opportunity of seeing 
the salvation of Israel come out of Zion. Do you not 
wish to be witnesses of the rise and glory of the church ? 
Pray then incessantly for the peace and prosperity of 
Jerusalem. Consider it as your chief business, to pray 
that the kingdom of God may come. — What though 
the signs of the times be discouraging — what though 
you live in troublous times — what though the church 
may be shaken, and the prospects of her increase be 
dark, yet remember that she is founded on a rock, and 
the gates of hell cannot prevail against, her. The vessel 
which carries Christ, though it be buffeted by storms, 
is in no danger of being wrecked. But to govern and 
direct does not belong to you ; your duty is to pray 
—to pray without ceasing — to wrestle with the ange' 



32ft LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

of the covenant, and not to let him go until he bless 
you. Give him no rest until he establish and make Jeru- 
salem a praise in all the earth. You cannot offend by 
importunity, but by this you will be sure to prev 
for " will not God hear his own elect, who cry day and 
night unto him ?" — Therefore, never hold your pe 
but as long as you live intercede with him to fulfil his 
gracious promises, and to cause the earth to be iiiled 
with the knowledge of himself as the waters cover the 
sea, when his people shall be all righteous, and there 
shall be no need any longer for any one to say to his 
neighbour, Know the Lord, for all shall know him from 
the least to the greatest 

Thanksgiving is also a duty peculiarly incumbent on 
the aged. In the providence of God you are spared, 
whilst most, of your coevals have been cut off in the 
midst of their career. Some of you have enjo 
almost uninterrupted prosperity. When you consider 
the dispensations of God's providence towards you. in 
the tune and place and circumstances of your birth, in 
giving you pious and intelligent parents, who took c 
of your health and education, and in following you 
with goodness and mercy all the days of your life; 
giving you kind friends, faithful teachers, health and 
reason, together with abundant religious privileges, 
how thankful ought you to he ! But that which above 
all other things enhances your obligations to gratitude 
is, that in his own good time lie effectually called you 
from the devious paths of iniquity, and adopted you as 
a child into his own household and family, and f er- 
haps has made you the instrument of much good to 
others; if not on a large scale, yet in your own family, 
and in the church of which you are a member. If now, 
to all these blessings, he has given you pious children, 
who promise, when you are gone, more than to 
supply your place in society; or even if they have 
been preserved from infidelity and disgraceful immo- 
ralities, and are disposed to pay a serious attention to 
'he preaching of the gospel, no words can express your 
obligations to give thanks unto the Lord, and continu- 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 32l> 

ally to praise his name, whose mercy endureth forever 
and ever. " Let us, therefore, offer the sacrifice of 
praise to God continually — that is, the fruit of our lips, 
giving thanks to his name." 



LETTER IV. 

There is one remaining subject, my dear friends, to 
which I wish to call your attention. I refer to the 
solemn event of our departure out of life. Whatever 
may be uncertain in the future, concerning this there 
cannot exist the shadow of a doubt, — " It is appointed 
unto men once to die." " I know that thou wilt bring 
me to the house appointed for all living." " The 
grave is mine house." But we do not need the voice 
of revelation to assure us of our mortality : the evi- 
dence is daily before our eyes. Hundreds of our race 
close their eyes in death every day. The grave is 
never satisfied ; nor says, It is enough. Of the thou- 
sands of millions who have inhabited this globe, no 
more than two have escaped the dissolution of the 
body. And we are as certain as we can be of any 
thing, that all future generations shall go the same way, 
until Christ shall suddenly make his glorious appear- 
ance, coming in the clouds of heaven, with all his 
mighty angels. The men who shall then be found 
upon the earth shall not die, but they shall undergo a 
transformation equivalent to the death and resurrection 
of the body. " Behold," says Paul, " I shew you a 
mystery ; we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be 
changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at 
the last trump, for the trumpet shall sound. " If then 
the second coming of Christ should occur, before our 
departure from life, we should, indeed, escape a literal 
death ; but we can scarcely cherish the faintest hope 
of this kind. Prophecy leads us to believe, that many 
ages of the world are still future, and that the most 

28* 



330 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 



glorious period of the church is to come ; when the 
gospel shall not only be preached to all nations, but 
shall be embraced by all ; " when the earth shall be 
full of the knowledge of God, as the waters cover the 
sea." 

Death, when viewed merely by the light of nature, 
is truly an appalling event. It is commonly preceded 
by disease, or the decrepitude of old age. The separa- 
tion between the soul and body is usually accompa- 
nied with a convulsive struggle, and the appearance of 
extreme agony; so that "the pangs of death." and 
" the agonies of death," are familiar phrases among all 
people. It is manifestly an unnatural event; that is, 
these constituent parts of human nature do not & 
wilting to part, hut the severance of the one from t lie 
other is brought about by the operation of some violent 
cause. That the soul instinctively and strongly 

to its tenement as long as it can, and by every possible 
means resists the separation, requires no proof. That 
in some instances this adherence to life is counteracted, 

so that persons voluntarily put an end to this union of 
soul and body, or desire to leave the body, funm 
no evidence to the contrary: it only shows that it is 
possihle for causes to he put into operation which are 
even stronger than our attachment to this hie. Besides 
the pains and agonies of dissolution, there are other 
circumstances which render death an object abhoirenl 
to human feelings. It is a forcible and everlasting 
separation from all persons and things with which we 
have been conversant on earth. In it, we take a final 
leave of our dearest friends and beloved relatives, dear 
to our hearts as our own lives. Husbands are divorced 
from their wives ; parents separated from their children; 
brothers and sisters must part; friends — who often 
stick closer than brothers — here have the tenderest 
bonds sundered. The scenes to which we have long 
been accustomed; the houses in which we have long 
dwelt; the churches where we have met the solemn 
assembly of God's people, must all be left behind. 
The old man's arm-chair is left vacant; his place in 
the house of God is empty ; the social circle of which 



. 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 331 

he formed a part is broken ; and the work which he 
was accustomed to perform stands still, or falls into 
other hands. And he who departs, leaving behind him 
numerous attached friends, cannot avoid the foresight 
of the deep affliction. Already, before his eyes are 
closed, he sees the mournful group crowding around 
his dying bed, to catch the last look of affection, — to 
hear the last broken tones of a voice soon to be silent 
in death. The heart-breaking and tears of affectionate 
relatives often form one of the most painful circum- 
stances attending the death of a good man. He might 
well express his feelings in the language of Paul, on 
another occasion : " What mean ye to weep and to 
break my heart ?" But if the dearest friends which 
the dying man has, attempt to save themselves and 
him from the almost intolerable pang of separation, by 
withdrawing from the mournful scene ; this, in a very 
small degree, if at all, mitigates the dreaded pang. 
The imagination often paints the scene in more vivid 
colours than the reality. When the husband gasping 
for his last breath, observes the absence of the beloved 
partner of his joys and sorrows, he knows that she is 
gone into some secret chamber " to weep there." And 
she cannot withdraw into any recess so secluded, as 
not to seem to hear the deep-drawn sighs and heavy 
groans, to see the ghastly looks and contortions of him 
on whom all her earthly reliance has been long placed. 
I would say then, take her not away from the bed-side 
of the dying husband. Let her hold his trembling, 
cold hand to the last. Let him have the comfort of 
casting his last look on the object of his tenderest affec- 
tions. The Rev. Samuel Davies — a name so deservedly 
loved and revered in Virginia — has a poem, in which 
he describes the feelings of a husband and wife, ten- 
derly attached, in the prospect of the dissolution of 
either first. But there is not much to choose between 
the two cases, as far as relates to the parting scene. 
Those, however, who are left, behind are most deserv- 
ing of compassion. They who die in the Lord are at 
once blessed, because they rest from their labours ; but 
they who survive are often burdened with sorrow, and 



332 LETTERS-TO THE AGED. 

with a desolate heart go mourning all the day, envel- 
oped in the sombre weeds rf grief, and their heads 
hang down as the bulrush. It seems to me, however, 
that the mourning on account of the decease of pious 
friends, ought to be very moderate, and our tears soon 
dried up. What better can we ask for our friends, 
than that they might be safely lodged in the bosom of 
Abraham; where they will enjoy to the full such " good 
things" as they could never hope to enjoy in this 
world? There is, however, one case of the death of 
dear relatives, to which the aired especially are liable, 
in which there is but one topic of consolation : that is, 
the departure from life of those in whose cud there is 
no ground for scriptural hope. -At the prospect of this 
judgment my soul lias often trembled. May a merci- 
ful God avert it from every pious parent ! If WC W 
persuaded that we had uniformly done our duty to- 
wards our deceased friends, the stroke would not b< 
he.tvy; but when remorse for unfaithfulness mingles 
its hitter streams with the sorrow occasioned by bereave- 
ment, the cup must he bitter beyond conception. On 
this subject, however, I have met, among profess 
Christians, with what I consider a fault on both ex- 
tremes. A venerable clergyman, who had lost a he- 
loved son, who never gave, as far as known, any 
evidence of genuine repentance or faith in the Lord 
Jesus Christ, was unable to bear up under the refl 
tion that his dear child was in a state of hopeless misery ; 
he therefore sought relief to his agonized mind, by 
cherishing an error contrary to the analogy of his whole 
system of theology. He said to me, I cannot bring 
myself to think that a moral and amiable person, 
brought up under the gospel, and assenting to its doc- 
trines, will, by a gracious God, be made eternally mis- 
erable in hell, although he may not have experienced 
a change of heart. sad necessity, which drives a 
good man to such a resource for support and comfort ! 
But this is the practical belief of multitudes of profes- 
sors. They hold the doctrine of regeneration and its 
necessity as a matter of creed and theory, but in fact, 
they believe otherwise. A gay and blooming young 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 333 

.ady, who probably had never spent one half hour in 
serious thought, was suddenly carried off by an acute 
disease, which was so rapid and violent in its progress, 
that little or no opportunity was afforded for conversa- 
tion with the pastor or pious friends. — When some 
serious person lamented the unprepared state of the 
deceased, the suggestion was received in a Christian 
congregation and by nominal Christians with a sort of 
indignation ; as though it was an evidence of unchari- 
table bigotry, to believe one of the plainest doctrines 
of the Bible. — The other extreme is — peremptorily de- 
ciding upon the case of those who die without having 
given evidence of a change of heart. This case I will 
also illustrate by an anecdote which I know to be true. 
The brother of a zealous preacher of the gospel came 
to his end suddenly by the starting of his horse, by 
which his brains were knocked out against a tree ; and 
it was conjectured that the young man had been in- 
dulging too freely in the use of intoxicating liquor. 
When the brother above mentioned came to the house, 
where the corpse was laid out, he raised the covering 
from the face, and, after a solemn pause, said, with an 
audible voice, " There lies the senseless body, but the 
soul is burning in hell :" And this, too, when the room 
was full of people. The true doctrine on this subject 
is, that friends may indulge hope in relation to these 
deceased friends, as far as they can consistently with 
the truth of God ; but let no one seek healing for his 
wounded spirit, by "denying the faith." Even when 
there is no positive evidence of a change, we may 
resort to the possibility that it might have taken place 
in the last moments ; for who has a right to set limits 
to the mercy of God, when he has not limited himself? 
There is great danger, however, of expressing opin- 
ions or hopes, which may lead careless sinners to 
indulge in carnal security. It is much better, in such 
cases, to be silent. Some ministers, whom I have 
known, have been so solicitous to keep sinners from 
delaying repentance, that they have inculcated the 
opinion, that a death-bed repentance is not only uncer- 
tain, but absolutely ineffectual, and that no hope can 



334 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

be justly entertained for those who never repented 
until the last hour. It is true, that many who on a 
sick-bed appear penitent, when they recover, soon 
all their serious impressions, and return with r 
avidity to the pursuits of the world. Their repents 
is thus proved to have been spurious. JJut every lit 
of fear, produced by the near prospecl of death, ought 
not to be called repentance; or at any rate, that re- 
pentance which, in scripture, is connected with the 
pardon of sin — which is a real change of the views 
and tempers of the mind — by which a man becoirn 
new creature, old things having passed away, and all 
things having become new. All repentance on a death- 
bed is not, however, by these instances proved to be 
spurious, any more than all conversions of people in 
health are proved to be counterfeit — bee 
many such arc to be mel with. I have seen ca» B of 
repentance on a death-bed, as satisfactory, and in which 
I had as much confidence as in any that I have 
known anion- those in health, prior to the evidence of 
a good life. And why should il be supposed th 
gracious God will never manifest bis power and g 
in the conversion of a sinner on a sick-bed? It' this 
should once he admitted as a principle, it would he 
worse than useless tor a minister of the gospel, or any 
other pious person, to visit an unconverted sinner v. 
on a sick-bed; or to give any answer to his most anx- 
ious inquiry, " What shall 1 dn to he saved ?" I recol- 
lect to have heard a preacher from the pulpit, solemnly 
aver that there was no instance in the Bible of the 
conversion of an aged sinner. This is another ultra- 
ism, which has no good foundation. One of the most 
remarkable cases of the conversion of an exceeding 
great sinner, recorded in the sacred Scriptures, is of an 
aged m;>i. I refer to the late repentance of king Ma- 
nasseh. There is no man, of whom mention is made 
in the sacred volume, to whom a worse character is 
given, as one that exceeded the worst of the heathen 
in his abominable idolatries: — "Moreover, Manas 
seh shed umocent blood very much, till he had lilleL 
ie* isaleT froin one end to the other " It is true, it is 






LETTERS TO THE AGED. 335 

not expressly said, that his repentance occurred in his 
old age, but. it may, with strong probability, be inferred 
from the history. (2 Chron. xxxiii.) 

If, among my readers, there should be any aged per- 
sons who are still impenitent, I would earnestly and 
aiTcctionately exhort them, not to despair of God's 
mercy; there still may be hope in their case. My 
dear fellow-sinners, there is nothing in God's word, 
which excludes you from salvation, unless you volun 
tarily and obstinately exclude yourselves, by a rejec- 
tion of the overture of reconciliation. Christ says to 
you, as much as to others, " Ye will not come unto me 
that ye may have life." 

I find that I shall be under the necessity of claiming 
the old man's privilege of rambling from one subject 
to another : and, in writing to the aged, I hope I shall 
be excused for my prolixity in this letter. I have not 
fulfilled my own purpose, either as to the subject mat- 
ter or length ; and the consequence will be the inflic- 
tion of another epistle. But before I conclude this, I 
wish to say that death, viewed in the light of Scrip- 
ture, exhibits a very different aspect from what it does 
when viewed by the light of nature ; both as it relates 
to the sinner and the saint. In regard to the former, 
we are taught in the volume of truth, "that death was 
introduced by the transgression of man/' The penalty 
of the original law given to man was, " In the day 
thou eatest thereof (that is, of the forbidden fruit) thou 
shalt surely die." And when man became guilty, the 
sentence was denounced, "Dust thou art, and unto 
dust thou shalt return" — the execution of which pen- 
alty has been going on from that day to this, sweeping 
off generation after generation, until almost every part 
of the earth is filled with dust which once constituted 
the bodies of men. Even reason, when soberly con- 
sulted, would indicate that death comes as the punish 
ment of sin ; for otherwise, the transition from one 
state of existence to another, would not, under the 
government of a good God, be attended with so much 
pain and fear. But, what reason discovers only in dim 
perspective, revelation writes as with a sunbeam 



336 letters to the aged. 

" The wages of sin is death." "As by one man 
sin entered into the world, and death by sin- 
so death hath passed on all men, for that all 
have sinned." 

On the other hand, true believers are now delivered 
from the curse of the law, and consequently from 
death, as it is a curse. We may say, therefore, thai 
the righteous shall never taste death; for Christ, the 
Lord, hath solemnly averred, " If a man keep my say 
ings, he shall never see death. " Accordingly, the in- 
spired writers of the New Testament, commonly speak 
of the decease of Christians as a "sleep." *Them 
that sleep in Jesus will God brim: with him/' - We 
shall not all sleep, hut we shall all he changed. 91 And 
of Stephen, it is said, when he " kneeled down, and 
said with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their 
eh;irge, he PBLL A.SLSEF." But when the word death 
is retained, it must be understood to have a new m 
in relation to the children (A' God. It is death despoiled 
of his sting. It is the outward appearance of death, 
while its nature is entirely changed — so changed, that 
the curse is converted into a blessing. That which is 
a rich gain cannot be a curse 5 but to the sincere fol- 
lower of Christ, "TO mi: is GAIN." Thai which may 
he lawfully an object of ardent desire, cannot he of 
the nature of a penalty or curse; but Paul had a de- 
sire to depart and be with Christ, and the same desire 
has been fell by thousands since. But to cut the mat- 
ter short, death is placed in the category of the richest 
blessings. "For all things are yours, whether Paul, 
or A polios, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, 
or things present, or things to come, all are yours." 
The true Christian, then, has no reason to be appalled 
at the necessity of entering this darkly shaded valley. 
Dear friends, if we only approach, holding up the torch 
of revelation by faith, the dismal gloom which has 
gathered over the tomb will be immediately dissipated. 
Faith looks beyond this darkness and across this val- 
ley, and beholds a celestial city, the new Jerusalem. 
Though much indebted to John Bunyan, — one of the 
most fertile geniuses the world ever produced — I can- 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 337 

not easily forgive him for making the passage over 
Jordan to Canaan so very difficult for Christian. If 
he had carried out the allegory, he would have turned 
the swelling waves backward, and have shewn a dry 
path across the stream ; for no sooner had the priests, 
who carried the ark of the testimony, dipped their feet 
in the brim of the river than — " all the Israelites passed 
over on dry ground." But, after all, perhaps, the hon- 
est tinker drew his picture from the fact; for as Chris- 
tians seldom enjoy in life the comfort provided for 
them, so it is analogous, that in death they should want 
that comfort to which in Christ they are entitled. 



LETTER V. 

Can we do any thing to render our death — which can- 
not be far off — both safe and comfortable ? No doubt, 
by God's assistance, we can do much to accomplish 
these desirable ends, if we will set about the work in 
good earnest. I know that there is a feeling of despon- 
dency habitually existing in the minds of some aged 
persons of serious disposition, which leads them to con- 
clude, that if they are not now prepared to die, they 
never will be. And from all the acquaintance which 
I have had with professors of religion, I am constrained 
to think that, as their near approach to the grave does 
not increase their impressions of the importance of 
eternal realities, so old age has no tendency to render 
the evidences of their union with Christ more clear and 
satisfactory. You may frequently inquire of a dozen 
such professors in succession, whether they have ob- 
tained a comfortable assurance of the goodness of their 
spiritual condition, and the probability is, that four out 
ot five, if not nine out of ten, will answer in the nega- 
tive, and will express serious doubts whether they were 
ever the subjects of regenerating grace. It was not, 
I believe, always so with those who cordially received 

29 



338 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

the doctrines of grace, and rested their souls upon them. 
To say nothing about the joyful confidence ana assured 
hope of the apostles and primitive Christians, the mem- 
bers of the first reformed churches seem to have der 
from the pure doctrines of the Bible a high d< 

nl joy. The sail >ious 

PuritansofOld and New England ; and the Presbyter 
of Scotland, in the best aud purest days of the Scottish 

The question has irred, why 

the belief of these doctrines omfort n 

than in former times. It is not my purpose, at pre- 
sent, to attempt to account for tins fact, I addu 
merely to show, that most pi - among us, 

not actually prepared for death. Even if th< ir Rl 
should be one cannot view their ap- 

proachin > i » i i ' i • • 1 1 * * * * aud comfort. And 

whilst tl Duine piety dubious, 

they of course cannot know that they are in con- 

dition. It is, then, of the utmost importance that all 
professors of the above description, and . the 

aged, should be importunately urged "to give d 
to make their calling and election sure." I am au 
that some Christians, who enjoy very comfortable evi- 
dences of being the adopted children of God, are nor 
willing to profess that they have arrived at full assur- 
ance. They Suppose that they who have attained to 
this high privilege are in a state of uninterrupted joy, 
and that no shadow of doubt ever passes over their 
minds. The truth is, they do possess a solid assure 
although their frames of mind are not always equally 
comfortahle, and although the evidence is not so great 
that it cannot be increased. I recollect, wh< 
young, to have heard a judicious minister eon 
with an eminently pious old lady, wiio had belonged 
to the church under the care of the Rev. Samuel Dav 
m the county of Hanover. In answer to some inquiry 
respecting the comfort which she enjoyed in the 
vice of her Divine Master, she said, after ex| 
lively feelings of faith, penitence an;! grati 
my dear friend, I have never yet attained to the faith 
of assurance; all I can say is, that I have the faith oi 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 339 

reliance." "Well," said the minister, " if you know 
that you have the faith of reliance, that is assurance. ,? 
The degrees of evidence possessed by different Chris- 
tians, are various, from the feeblest hope up to strong 
confidence, and the clearness of the evidence to the 
same person varies exceedingly; but in general, there 
seems to be in our church a sad falling below par in 
respect to this matter. It has, however, often been 
correctly observed, that we are not to expect dying 
grace, before the dying hour arrives. God gives 
strength as we need it; and when the believer is called 
to severe trials, or to difficult duties, he commonly re- 
ceives aid proportioned to the urgency of his wants, 
and is surprised to find himself held up by a power not 
his own. Thus we have often seen the sincere hum- 
ble Christian, who, during life, was subject to bondage 
through fear of death, triumphing in the dying hour. 
This expectation of special aid ought to be encouraged. 
K is, indeed, a part of that preparation which we should 
make ; and if we confidently rely on the great Shep- 
herd to meet us, and comfort us, while walking through 
the valley and shadow of death, he will not disap- 
point us. 

But, in dealing with professors troubled with doubts, 
we are too apt to proceed on the assumed principle, 
that notwithstanding their sad misgivings and fears, 
they are at bottom sincere Christians, and have the 
root of the matter in them ; while in regard to many, 
this may be an entire mistake, and we are in danger 
of cherishing in them a fatal delusion. Here the skill 
and fidelity of the spiritual watchmen are put to the 
test ; and while they should not deviate a hair's-breadth 
from the rule of the divine word, it is better that the 
pious Christian should suffer some unnecessary pain, 
than that the false professor should be bolstered up 
with delusive hopes. I must say, therefore, that the 
true reason why many professors have no comfortable 
evidence of their religion, is because they have none. 
They have never experienced the new birth ; and being 
still dead in trespasses and sins, it is no wonder that 
that they cannot find in themselves what does not exist 



340 



LETTERS TO THE AGED. 



I abhor a censorious spirit, which, upon slight grounds, 
judges this and that professor to be gr ; but all 

my experience and observation lead me to believe that, 
in our day as well as in former limes, the " foolish vir- 
gins" constitute a full moiety of the visible church. 
What I would urge, therefore, on you, my aged friends, 
and on myself, is a more serious, impartial, and thorough 
examination into the foundation of our hope of heaven, 
than perhaps we have ever yet made. — Let us go hack 
to the commencement of our religious course, ami see 
whether, in our present more mature judgment, we can 
conclude that we were then the subjects of a saving 
change. I do not ask you whether you had an in- 
crease of serious feelings, or whether your sympathies 
were strongly excited and experienced some change 
from a state of terror or distress to comfort ; for all these 
things may be experienced, and have been experienced 
hy unregenerate persons. Let us carefully impure 
whether the habitual tenor of our lives lias been such 
as to satisfy us that a new nature was received. If 
we have fallen into sin, have we deeply and sincerely 
repented of it ? Have we wept bitterly for our sin, like 
Peter? or have we mourned in deep sorrow, like 
David ? Not such repentance as some experience, who, 
after all their convictions and confessions, return again 
to the same course of iniquity. But, after all exami- 
nations of past experience, the main point is, what is 
the present, habitual state of our hearts? Do we now 
love God as his character is exhibited in his word? 
Do we hunger and thirst after holiness, or a complete 
conformity to the law of God? Would we be willing that 
that law should be relaxed in its demands to afford us 
some indulgence? Do we seek our chief happiness in 
the favour of God, and in communion with him in his 
word and ordinances ? Is his glory uppermost in our 
desires, and do we sincerely wish and determine to do 
all that we can to promote the kingdom of the Re- 
deemer ? Do we sincerely love the people of God. of 
every sect and name, because they bear his image, and 
are the redeemed children of God ? Again : what is 
the ground on which we expect the pardon of sin and 



LETTERS TO THE A(xET). 341 

the favour of God ? Is it because we are better than 
many others ? Is it because we have had what we 
esteem great experiences ? Is it on account ol our moral 
demeanour, or charitable benefactions? Dare we trust in 
any measure to our own goodness and righteousness? 
If we build on any of these, or on any similar grounds, 
then are we on a sandy foundation, and all our tower- 
ing hopes must fall. But, methinks, I hear the humble 
penitent saying, " all these things I count loss for Christ 
— I feel that I deserve to die — I never was more con- 
vinced of any thing, than that it would have been per- 
fectly just for God to send me to hell. And now, all 
my trust and all my hope, if I know my own heart, is 
in the Lord Jesus Christ, and in his perfect right- 
eousness and intercession ; and all my confidence of 
being able to serve God hereafter, or to persevere for 
a single day, is in the grace of the Holy Spirit. The 
whole evidence of Christian character may be reduced 
to two particulars — entire trust in Christ for justifica- 
tion, and a sincere and universal love of holiness, with 
a dependence on the Holy Spirit for its existence, con- 
tinuance and increase. If, my friend, you have these 
evidences now, you need not perplex yourself by a 
multitude of scruples. You may dismiss your doubts. 
God's word will never deceive any who rely upon its 
guidance. You may not know the day nor even the 
year, w r hen spiritual life commenced in your soul ; and 
yet, if you now feel its warm pulsations — if you breathe 
its genuine aspirations — if your heart's treasures are 
in heaven, and if the cause of God is dearer to you than 
any other interest — if his people are dearer to you than 
any other people — if your most, constant and supreme 
desire is to glorify God your Redeemer, whether by 
living or dying — then may you welcome death. He 
is no king of terrors to you. You may say, " Come, 
Lord Jesus, come quickly !" 

Perhaps some of you are afraid of the pangs of death. 
You have heard of the convulsive struggle — the dying 
groans — the difficult breathing — and the ghastly coun- 
tenance ! Well, it must be confessed, the scene is ap- 
palling ; but it is soon over, forever. I am of opinion, 

29* 



342 LETTERS TO THE AGED. 

however, that often, there is the appearance of dreadfu 
suffering where the patient is unconscious of any very 
acute pain ; and very frequently, the departure of the 
immortal spirit is, at the last, like falling into a gentle 
sleep. And not unfrequently, while the body is racked 
with pain, or with what would produce pain in other 
circumstances, the soul is so supported and comforted 
by the sweet peace of God poured into it, that the dis- 
orders and convulsions of the body are scarcely thought 
of. And in many instances, God takes his people away 
by a sudden stroke ; — they know nothing about it, until 
they awake in heaven. ! what a transition ! Or, if 
it be necessary to let in the light of glory gradually, 
God, who knows our constitution, will order all things 
well. But I would advise you to meditate much on 
death. Collect, and have in memory, a number of pre- 
cious promises for the occasion. Put up many prayers 
for grace and strength for a dying hour. Beg an in- 
terest in the intercessions of your Christian friends. 
Keep your minds calm, and yield not to perturbing 
cares. Be found at your post, when the summons comes, 
with your loins girded and lights burning. Settle be- 
forehand all your worldly aifairs. 



COUNSELS OF THE AGED TO THE YOUNG 



It is a matter of serious regret, that young persons art 
commonly so little disposed to listen to the advice o\ 
the aged. This prejudice seems to have its origin in 
an apprehension, that austerity and rigour naturally be- 
long to advanced years ; and that the loss of all suscep- 
tibility of pleasure from those scenes and objects which 
afford delight to the young produces something of an 
ill-natured or envious feeling towards them. Now, it 
cannot be denied, that some of the aged are chargeable 
with the fault of being too rigid in exacting from youth 
the same steady gravity, which is becoming in those 
who have lived long, and have had much experience 
in the world : not remembering, that the constitutional 
temperament of these two periods of human life is very 
different. In youth, the spirits are buoyant, the sus- 
ceptibilities lively, the affections ardent, and the hopes 
sanguine. To the young, every thing in the world 
wears the garb of freshness ; and the novelty and 
variety of the scenes presented keep up a constant 
excitement. These traits of youthful character, as long 
as irregularity and excess are avoided, are not only 
allowable, but amiable ; and would in that age be 
badly exchanged for the more sedate and grave emo- 
tions which are the natural effects of increasing years, 
and of long and painful experience. But it is greatly 
to be desired, that the lessons of wisdom taught by 
the experience of one set of men should be made avail- 
able to the instruction of those who come after them. 
We have, therefore, determined to address a few short 
hints of advice to the rising generation, on subjects of 
deep and acknowledged importance to all ; but pre- 
viously to commencing, we would assure them, that 
it is no part of our object to interfere with their in- 
nocent enjoyments, or to deprive them of one pleasure 
which cannot be shown to be injurious to their besr 

343 



244 



COUNSELS OF THE AGED 






interests. We wish to approach you, dear youth, in 
the character of affectionate friends, rather than in that 
of dogmatical teachers or stern reprovers. We would 
therefore, solicit your patient, candid and impartial 
attention to the following counsels: 

I. Resolve to form your lives upon some certain 
principles, and to regulate your actions by fixed rules. 
Man was made to lie governed by reason, and not by 
mere accident or caprice. It is important, therefore, 
thai you begin early to consider and inquire, what is 
the proper course of human conduct, and to form some 
plan for your future lives. The want of such con- 
sideration is manifest in the conduct of multitudes. 
They are governed by the impulse of the moment, 
reckless of consequences. They have fixed no steady 
aim, and have adopu-d no reriain principles of action. 
Living thus at random, it would he a miracle if they 
went uniformly right. In order to your pursuing a 
right path, you must know what it is. and to acquire 
this knowledge, you must divest yourselves of thought- 
less giddiness, you must take time lor serious reflection. 
It will not answer, to adopt without consideration the 
opinions of those who may he about you ; for they 
may have some sinister design in regard to you; or 
they may themselves be misled by error or prejudice. 
Persons already involved in dissipation or entangled in 
error, naturally desire to keep themselves in coun- 
tenance, h\ the number of followers whom they can 
seduce into the paths of vice. As reasonable creatures, 
therefore, judge for yourselves what course it is right 
and fitting that you should pursue. Exercise your 
>wn reason independently and impartially, and give 
not yourselves up to be governed by mere caprice and 
fashion, or by the opinions of others. 

II. While you are young, avail yourselves of every 
opportunity of acquiring useful knowledge. — Reason 
should guide us; but without correct knowledge reason 
is useless ; just as the most perfectly formed eye would 
be useless, without light. There is in every man a 
natural thirst for knowledge, which needs only to be 
cultivated and rightly directed. All have not equal 



TO THE VOCWG. 345 

opportunities of obtaining important knowledge : but 
all have more advantages for this object than they im- 
prove. The sources of information are innumerable; 
the principal, however, are books and living men. In 
regard to the former, no age of the world which has 
passed, was so favoured with a multiplicity of books as 
our own. Indeed, the very number, and diversity of 
character and tendency of authors now create one of 
the most obvious difficulties to those who are destitute 
of wise advisers. It would be an unwise counsel, to 
tell you to read indiscriminately whatever comes to 
hand. The press gives circulation not only to useful 
knowledge, but to error dressed up plausibly in the 
garb of truth. Many books are useless, others are on 
the whole injurious, and some are impregnated with a 
deadly poison. Waste not your time in works of idle 
fiction. Touch not the book which exhibits vice in an 
alluring form. Seek the advice of judicious friends in 
the choice of books. 

But you may also learn much from listening to the 
conversation of the wise and good. There is scarcely 
a person so ignorant, who has lived any time in the 
world, that cannot communicate some profitable hint 
to the young. Avail yourselves, then, of every op- 
portunity of learning what you do not know; and let 
not pride prevent you from seeking instruction, lest by 
this means you should betray your ignorance. Cherish 
the desire of knowledge, and keep your mind con- 
stantly awake, and open to instruction, from every 
quarter. 

But, especially, I would recommend to you the ac- 
quisition of self-knowledge. "Know thyself'- was 
a precept held in such high esteem among the ancients, 
that the honour of inventing it was claimed for several 
of their wisest men ; and not only so, but on account 
of its superlative excellence, it was believed by many 
to have been uttered by the oracle of Apollo, at Del" 
phos ; at which place, as Pliny informs us, it was con 
spicuously written in letters of gold, over the door oi 
the temple. 

And this species of knowledge is also inculcated u 



346 



COUNSELS OF THE AGED 



tlie Christian Scriptures, as most useful and necessary. 
"Examine yourselves," says Paul, "whether ye be 
in the faith; prove your own selves: know ye not 
your own selves?" And in the Old Testament, 
the value of this knowledge is also fully recognized, 
where we are exhorted "to commune with our own 
hearts/' — and "to keep our hearts with all diligen 
And the possession of it is made an object of fervent 
prayer: "search me, (*<)(], and know my heart, try 
me, and know my thoughts/' — "examine me, Lord, 
and prove me, try my reins and my heart." 

As this knowledge is necessary to all. so it is placed 
within the reach of all. Bui it cannot be acquired 
without diligent self-examination. To this duty there 
is, in human nature a strong repugnance; partly 
from natural, and partly from moral causes; so that, 
by most, it is entirely neglected, to their exceeding great 
detriment. But, when it is attempted, we are i 
danger of being misled by self-love and prejudice. To 
acquire any true knowledge of ourselves, some good 
degree of honesty and impartiality is essentially requi- 
site. Hut an honest desire to arrive at the truth is not 
the only prerequisite to self-knowledge. The mind 
must he enlightened in regard to the standard of recti- 
tude, to which we ought to be conformed. "The 
entrance of thy word giveth light." The word of God 
should dwell richly in us, and by the rules and princi- 
ples of. the sacred volume, we should form all our sen- 
timents respecting ourselves. This is the candle of the 
Lord which searcheth the inward parts of man: and 
without such a lamp it would be as impossible to obtain 
my considerable degree of self-knowledge, as to dis- 
tinguish *he objects in a dark room, without a light. 
Self-examination, accompanied with a careful perusal 
of the Holy Scriptures, will lead us daily to a more 
thorough knowledge of our own character. 

Beware of the common illusion of forming your 
estimate of yourselves, from the favourable opinions 
of those around you. They cannot know the secret 
principles from which you act ; and flattery may have 
much influence in leading them to speak in your praise 



TO THE YOUNG. 347 

Seize favourable opportunities of judging of the 
.atent strength of your passions. The fact is, that 
until some new conjuncture or occasion elicits our feel- 
ings, we are as ignorant of what is within us, as other 
persons. 

Study also your constitutional temperament, and 
consider attentively the power which particular objects 
and circumstances have over you. You may often 
learn even from your enemies and calumniators what 
are the weak points in your character. — They are 
sagacious in detecting faults; and, generally, have 
some shadow of pretext for what they allege against 
us. We may, therefore, derive more benefit from the 
sarcasms of our foes than from the flattery of our 
friends. 

Learn, moreover, to form a correct estimate of your 
own abilities, as this is necessary to guide you in your 
undertakings. 

III. Be careful to form good habits. Almost all 
permanent habits are contracted in youth; and these 
do in fact form the character of the man through life. 
It is Pa ley, I believe, who remarks, that we act from 
habit nine times, where we do once from deliberation. 
liittle do young persons apprehend the momentous 
consequences of many of their most frequently repeated 
actions. Some habits are merely inconvenient, but 
have no moral quality; others affect the principles of 
our conduct; and become sources of good or evil, to 
an incalculable degree. As to the former, they should 
be avoided, as detracting from our comfort, and ulti- 
mately interfering with our usefulness; but the latter 
should be deprecated, as laying the foundation of a 
wicked character, and as standing in the way of all 
mental and moral improvement. 

IV. Be particular and select in the company which 
you keep, and the friendships which you form. 'Tell 
me, 5 says the proverb, ' what company you keep, and 
I will tell you what you are.' 'Evil communications 
corrupt good manners.' Vice is more easily and ex- 
tensively diffused by improper companions, than by 
all other means. As one infected sheep communicates 



348 



COUNSELS OF THE AGED 



disease to a whole flock ; so one sinner often destroys 
much good, by corrupting all the youth who fall under 
his influence. When vicious men are possessed of wit 
and fascinating manners, their conversation is most 
dangerous to the young. We would entreat you, deal 
young friends, to form an intimacy with no one whose 
principles are suspicious. The friendship of profligate 
men is exceedingly dangerous. Listen not to their lair 
speeches, and warm professions of attachment. Fly 
from contact with them, as from one infected with the 
plague. Form no close alliance with such. No more 
think of taking them to your hosom, than you would a 
viper. — Gaze not on their beauty, nor sutler yourselves 
to be charmed with their fascination of manners. Un- 
der these specious appearances, a deleterious poison 
lurks. 

< He not unequally yoked together with unbelievers,' 
is the exhortation of scripture. And what can he more 
unseemly and incongruous, than for an amiable and 
virtuous woman to be indissolubly united to an un- 
principled debauchee? Ov, for a good man to he con 
nected with a woman destitute of piety and virtue? 
He especially careful, therefore, in forming alliances for 
life. Seek' a connexion with the wise and good, and 
you will become wiser and better by converse with 
such. 

V. Endeavour to acquire and maintain a good re- 
putation. 'A good name is rather to be chosen than 
great riches.' A ruined fortune may be recovered, a 
lost reputation never. Young men are often laying 
the foundation of an unenviable reputation, while they 
are thinking of no such thing. They never dream that 
the character which they attain at school or college, 
will probably be as lasting as life. The youth who is 
known to be addicted to falsehood, knavery, treachery, 
&c, when arrived at the age of man, will be viewed 
by those who know him with distrust. A stain on the 
character is not easily washed out ; at a distant period 
the faults and follies of youth may be revived to a 
man's confusion and injury. But especially is the 
female character exquisitely delicate. A small degree 






TO THE YOUNG. 349 

of imprudence will often fix a stiema on the gay young 
iady, which no subsequent sobriety can completely 
erase. 

We do not mean, that the young should cherish a 
false sense of honour, which would lead them to fight 
and contend for reputation. No man ever secured or 
increased a good name, by shedding the vital blood of 
a human being. The reputation which we recommend 
must arise from a life of consistent and uniform well- 
doing. Prize such a character, as of inestimable value 
to your own peace, and as a most powerful means of 
usefulness. The most potent human engine of utility 
is influence; and this depends entirely on reputation. 

VI. Manage your worldly concerns with economy 
and discretion. Avoid the inconvenience, embarrass- 
ment, and vexation of being in debt. Conduct your 
business with attention and diligence; and have your 
accounts in such a condition, that you will be at no 
loss to ascertain the true state of your affairs. Men 
often become unjust, and injurious to others, without 
having intended any filch thing, merely by a confused 
and careless manner of transacting their business. Such 
a man, after a while, feels an unconquerable aversion 
to a scrutiny into his affairs. He shuts his eyes against 
the ruin which he is bringing ou himself, and heed- 
lessly rushes forward in the path which habit or fash- 
ion has rendered agreeable. When, at length, an exi- 
gence arrives, which constrains him to adopt some 
measure to extricate himself from his difficulties, he is 
placed under strong temptation to resort to a course 
which is not strictly honourable. He persuades him- 
self, that if he can save his credit for the present, he 
will be able to rectify every thing, by diligence and 
good fortune, and to preserve his friends from suffering 
on his account. But these efforts to recover lost ground 
commonly prove ineffectual, and render the situation 
of the person more involved than before. He finds, at 
length, that he is sinking; and this discovery often 
produces a desperate recklessness. He plunges deeper 
and deeper into debt ; and often drags to ruin, not only 
his own family, but some of his friends who confided 

30 



350 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 

too implicitly in his truth and integrity. It is also too 
common for men who have failed in trade, to resort to 
means for the support of a helpless family, which a 
sound moral faculty never can approve. The tempta 
tion arising from the tender love of wife and chil 
is indeed very strong, but not invincible. In tne com- 
mercial world, there arc many illustrious examples of 
merit, honour, and (he strictest probity, in men who 
had it in their power to defraud their creditors, or 
to deeply involve their confiding friends, hut who 
chose rather to look haggard poverty in the lace, and 
to see their beloved families descending from affluence 
into the vale of obscurity, than to be guilty of a dis- 
honourable act. And in the long run this turns out 
more to the benefit of those persons, than any advan- 
tage obtained by ;i resort to shifts and evasions not 
entirely consistent with the highest integrity. lie who 
sacrifices reputation lor present comfort, buys it at too 

dear a rate. 'The merchant, who, when he fails, 
ins reputation for truth and integrity, will meet with 
hut little favour from the world, and will have very 
iiftle chance ()\ rising again. But he who has 1 
unfortunate, and yet maintains his integrity, and pre- 
serves his character unsullied, is often able to enter 
again into business under favourable auspices: and is 
encouraged and aided in his attempts to gain a living, 
by men of wealth and standing; so, that such a man is 
often successful to such a degree, that he has it in his 
power to compensate those from whon 
rived in the day of his calamity. Beware of being 
governed by ambition in your commercial enterpri 
The pride of doing a large busin< ss, and of being con- 
sidered as at the head of the profession, seduces many 
aspiring young merchants: and greediness of gain 
tempts still more to engage in hazardous speculations, 
and to trade to an extent not authorized by the capital 
which they have at command. In this way bankrupt- 
cies become so common that the event ceases to ex< 
much surprise. Families delicately educated, and long 
accustomed to the luxuries as well as the comforts 
life, are reduced to poverty. Multitudes of such fa 



TO THE YOUNG. 3 51 

inilies are found in our large commercial cities, who 
are really more properly the objects of benevolence, 
than the common beggar who clamorously solicits youi 

charity. The real privations and sufferings of such are 
not fully known; for, from the desire of avoiding the con- 
tempt and the pity of vulgar minds, such persons spread 
a decent veil over their indigence, and prefer to pine 
secretly in want rather than to seek relief by a public 
disclosure of their necessities. The Christian philan- 
thropist will, however, seek out such sufferers, and will 
contrive methods of bestowing relief upon them in a 
way consistent with the delicacy of their feelings. 

The above remarks are particularly adapted to those 
who engage in commerce; but they are not inappli- 
cable to others. It is true, integrity is the soul of a 
merchant; but it is a sterling quality which every man 
ought to possess; and all men are liable to be reduced 
to a state of indigence by a long series of untoward 
events. My counsel then is, that you commence and 
pursue business with prudence ; and when unfortunate, 
that you so act as to preserve your integrity and your 
reputation, by resorting to no equivocal means of relief; 
but resolve to act in conformity with the strictest rules 
of justice and honour. 

VII. Aim at consistency in your Christian character. 
There is a beauty in moral consistency which resembles 
the symmetry of a well proportioned building, where 
nothing is deficient, nothing redundant. Consistency 
can only be acquired and maintained by cultivating 
every part of the Christian character. The circle of 
virtues must be complete, without chasms or obliquities. 
A character well proportioned and nicely balanced in 
all its parts, we are not very frequently permitted to 
witness ; for, while in one branch there is vigour, and 
even exuberance, in another there may be the appear- 
ance of feebleness and sterility. The man who is dis- 
tinguished for virtues of a particular class is apt to be 
deficient in those which belong to a different class. 
This is so commonly the fact, that many entertain the 
opinion that the same person cannot excel in every 
virtue. Thus, it is not expected that the man of re- 



352 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 

markable firmness and intrepidity, should at the same 
time be distinguished for meekness and gentleness. 
But after making due allowances for a difference of 
constitutional temperament, we must maintain, that 
there is not, nor can there be, any incompatibility be- 
tween the several virtues of the Christian life. They 
are all branches of the same root, and the principle 
which affords nourishment to one, communicates its 
virtue to all. As all truth is harmonious, however 
it may, on a superficial and partial view, seem to be 
contradictory; so all the exercises of moral good I 
are not only consistent, but assist and adorn each other. 
This is so much the case, that symmetry of Christian 
character has, by some distinguished casuistical writers, 
been laid down as a necessary evidence of genuine- 
ness; and it has been insisted on, as probable, that 
where one virtue seems to exist in great strength, while 

others are remarkably wanting, it is a mark of spurious- 
ness. There is much reason it) this view of the sub- 
ject ; for men are frequently found whose zeal bli 
out ardently and conspicuously, so as to leave most 
others far back in th<> shade, while they are totally des- 
titute of that humility, meekness, and brotherly kind- 
ness, which form an essential part of the Christian 
character. Some men are conscientious and punctilious 
in the performance of all the rites and external duties 
connected with the worship of God, who are inatten- 
tive to the obligations of strict justice and veracity in 
their intercourse with men: and on the other hand, 
many boast of their morality, and yet are notoriously 
inattentive to the duties of religion. Real Christians 
too, are often chargeable with inconsistency, which 
arises from a want of clear discernment of the rule of 
moral conduct, in its application to particular cases; 
for while the general principles of duty are plain, and 
easily understood by all, the ability to discriminate be- 
tween right and wrong, in many complicated cases, 
»s extremely rare. This delicate and correct perception 
of moral relations, can only be acquired by the divine 
blessing on our assiduous exertions. It is too com- 
monly taken for granted, that Christian morals are a sub- 






TO THE YOUNG. 353 

ject so easy, that all close study of it is unnecessary. 
This is an injurious mistake. Many of the deficiencies 
and inconsistencies of Christians, are owing to a want 
of clear and correct knowledge of the exact rule of 
moral conduct. On no subject will you find a greater 
diversity of opinion, than in regard to the lawfulness 
or unlawfulness of particular practices: and even good 
men are often thrown into difficulty and doubt, respect- 
ing the proper course to be pursued. But while many 
cases of inconsistency arise from ignorance of the exact 
standard of rectitude, more must be attributed to heed- 
lessness and forgetfulness. Men do nor. act sufficiently 
from principle, but too much from custom, from fashion, 
and from habit. Thus many actions are performed 
without any inquiry into their moral character. There 
is an obtuseness in the moral sensibility which permits 
evils to pass without animadversion. Another cause 
of the inconsistency so commonly observed, is the pre- 
valence which certain passions or appetites may obtain, 
in the time of temptation. The force of the internal 
principles of evil is not perceived, when the objects and 
circumstances favourable to their exercise, are absent. 
As the venomous adder seems to be harmless while 
chilled with cold, but soon manifests his malignity when 
brought near the fire ; so sin often lies hid in tht bo- 
som, as though it were dead, until some exciting cause 
draws it forth into exercise ; and then the person him- 
self is surprised to find the strength of his own passions, 
above any thing which he had before conceived. Thus 
men often act, in certain circumstances, in a way alto- 
gether contrary to the general tenor of their conduct. 
It is by no means a fair inference from a single act of 
irregularity, that the person who is guilty of it has acted 
hypocritically in all the apparent good actions of his 
former life. The true explanation is, that principles of 
action which he has commonly been able to govern and 
restrain, acquire, in some unguarded moment, or under 
the power of some strong temptation, a force which his 
good principles are not at that moment strong enough 
to oppose. The man who is usually correct and orderly 
may thus be overtaken in a fault ; and as all are liable 

30* 



354 >i'NSELs Of 1 in, virED 

to the same frailties, there should exist a disposition td 
receive and restore an offending brother, when he gives 
sufficient evidence of penitence. Man, at his best estate 
in this world, is an inconsistent creature. The only 
persons in whom this defect io not observed are the 
men who by grace live near to God, and exercisi 
constant jealousy and vigilance over themselves. I5ut 
when faith is weak and inconstant, great inconsist- 
encies will mar the beauty of the Christian character. 
Young persons ought, therefore, to begin early to exer- 
cise this vigilance, and to keep their hearts with all 
diligence, lest they be ensnared by their own passions, 
and overcome by the power of temptation* I counsel 
you then, my young friends, to aim at consistency* 
Cultivate assiduously every part of the Christian cha- 
racter; so that there may appears beautiful proportion 
in your virtue. 

The reflections to which I have been led in speaking 
of consistency of Christian character, \ the im- 

portance of urging upon you the government of your 
passions. A man who has no control over his pas- 
sions, is justly compared to a ship at sea, which is 
driven by fierce winds, while she neither ]s governed 
by the rudder nor steered by the compass. By indul- 
gence, the passions gain strength very rapidly; and 
when once the habit of indulgence is fixed, the moral 
condition of the sinner is most deplorable, and almost 
desperate. To preserve consistency, it is i ry to 

be well acquainted with the weak points in our own 
character, to know something of the strength of our 
own passions, and to guard beforehand against the oc- 
casions and temptations which would be likely to cause 
us to act inconsistently with our Christian profession. 
Many men have successfully contended with their own 
passions, and although naturally of a hasty and irritable 
temper, have, by constant discipline, brought them- 
selves into a habitual state of equanimity ; so that how* 
ever they may be conscious of the smugglings of the 
natural passions, they are kept so completely under re- 
straint, that to others they do not seem to exist. — The 
anecdote which is related of Socrates and the physiog- 






TO THE YOUNG. 355 

aomist, is instructive on this point. When the latter, 
upon examining the lines of the philosopher's face, pro- 
nounced that he was a man of bad temper, and exceed- 
ingly irascible, the disciples of Socrates laughed him to 
scorn, as having betrayed the weakness of his art, by 
so totally mistaking the true disposition of their master; 
but he checked their ridicule, by acknowledging that ' 
his natural temper had been truly represented by the 
physiognomist, but that by the discipline of philosophy, 
he had been able to acquire such a mastery over his 
passions, that their existence was not apparent. To 
achieve a victory of this kind, is more honourable than 
to conquer in the field of battle; according to that of 
the wise man, " He that is slow to anger is better than 
the mighty ; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that 
taketh a city/' And again, " He that hath no rule 
over his own spirit, is like a city that is broken down, 
and without walls." Learn then, my young friends, 
to bridle your passions, and govern your temper, from 
your earliest days. 

VIII. Be contented with the station and circum- 
stances in which Providence has placed you. Never 
repine at God's dealings towards you, nor envy those 
who are above you in worldly advantages. Consider 
not so much what you want, as what you have; and 
look less at those above you, than at those in inferior 
circumstances. Accustom yourselves to look on the 
bright, rather than the dark side of the picture. Indulge 
not in unreasonable fears, nor give way to feelings of des- 
pondency. Exercise fortitude, and maintain tranquillity 
of mind. Be not ruffled and disconcerted by every little 
cross event which may occur. Place not your happiness 
at the disposal of every one who may be disposed to speak 
an unkind word, or to do an unhandsome thing. Learn 
to possess your souls in patience, believing that when 
appearances are darkest, the dawn of a more comfort- 
able day is near. 

IX. Let your intercourse with men be marked by 
a strict and conscientious regard to truth, honour, jus- 
tice, kindness and courtesy. We should certainly have 
recommended politeness, as a happy means of polish- 



156 



COUNSELS OF THE AGED 



mg social intercourse, and affording pleasure to those 
with whom you are conversant ; but many are accus- 
tomed to connect an unpleasant idea with this word. 
But, surely, genuine politeness, if not itself a virtue, 
spreads a charm and a beauty over that which is vir- 
tuous. And, certainly, there is no merit in awkward- 
ness and clownishness. Hut our chief object under this 
particular is to urge upon you a constant and punctilious 
regard to the social virtues. Be honest, be upright, 
sincere, men of your word, faithful to every trust, kind 
to every body, respectful where respect is due, generous 
according to your ability, grateful for benefits received, 
and delicate in the mode of conferring favours. Let 
your integrity be unsuspected. Never resort to anv 
mean or underhand measure: but let your conduct and 
conversation be characterized by frankness and candour, 
by forbearance, and a spirit of indulgence and forg 
uess. Jn short, -do unto others as you would b 
tiieui do unto you." 

\. Live not merely for yourselves, but also for the 
rood {)[' others. Selfishness contracts the soul, and 
hardens the heart. The man absorbed in selfish pur- 
suits is incapable of the sweetest, nobles! joys of which 
our nature is susceptible. The author of our being 
has ordained laws, according to which the most exqui- 
site pleasure is connected, not with the direct pursuit 
of our own happiness, but with tl of bene- 

volence. On this principle it is, that he who labours 
wholly for the benefit of others, and ;js it were ton 
himself, is far happier than the man who makes him- 
self the centre of ail his affections, the sole object of 
all his exertions. On this principle it w;is, that our 
Saviour said, " It is more blessed to give, than to re- 
ceive." Resolve, therefore, to lead lives of usefulness. 
Be indifferent to nothing which has any relation to the 
welfare of men. Be not afraid of diminishing your 
own happiness, by seeking that of others. Devise 
liberal things, and let not avarice shut up your hand 
from giving to him that needeth, and to promote the 
cause of piety and humanity. 

XI. Be faithful and conscientious in the discharge 






TO THE YOUNG. 357 

of all duties which arise out of the relations which you 
sustain to others. Relative duties are far more nume- 
rous than all others; because the occasions requiring 
their performance are constantly occurring. The du- 
ties of parents, of children, of brothers and sisters, of 
neighbours, of masters and servants, of teachers and 
pupils, of magistrates and citizens, of the learned pro- 
fessions, of trade, of the rich and the poor, occupy a 
very large portion of the time and attention of every 
man. And these furnish the proper test jf character. 
< He who is faithful in little, is faithful also in much-' 
And he who is not attentive to the daily recurring du- 
ties of his station, h> vain claims the reputation of 
viitue or piety, by splendid acts of public beneficence. 
* Though I give all my goods to feed the poor, and have 
not charity, it profiteth me nothing.' 

XII. Exercise incessant vigilance against the dan- 
gers and temptations by which you are surrounded, 
and by which you will certainly be assailed. These 
dangers are too numerous to be specified in detail ; but 
I will mention a few. Guard solicitously against all 
approaches towards infidelity. Reject unbelieving 
thoughts and skeptical doubts from the beginning. 
Even if the system of infidelity were true, it promises 
no comfort, and cannot possibly be serviceable to you. 
But the best security will be to study diligently the 
evidences of religion, and be ready to meet the cavils 
of infidelity at all points. Make yourselves well ac- 
quainted with the best authors on this subject, and let 
your faith rest on the firm ground of evidence. 

Another danger against which you must be watch- 
ful, is pleasure — sensual pleasure. Worldly amuse- 
ments, however innocent they may appear, are replete 
with hidden dangers. These scenes exhilarate the 
spirits, and excite the imagination, until reason and 
conscience are hushed, and the real end of living is 
forgotten. For the sake of pleasure, every thing im- 
portant and sacred is negjected, and the most valuable 
part of human life wasted in unprofitable engagements. 
Beware then of the vortex of dissipation, and espe- 
cially of the least approach towards the gulf of intern 



358 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 



perance. On that slippery ground, many strong men 
have fallen, never to rise. The trophies of this insidi 
ous and destructive vice are widely spread on every 
side, and the wise and the good have come to the con- 
clusion, that there is no effectual security against this 
enemy, but in a resolute and persevering abstinence 
from inebriating drink. S« ek your happiness, dear 
youth, in the pursuit of useful objects, and in the per- 
formance of duty, and then you will be safe, and will 
have no reason to envy the votaries of sensual pleasure. 

XIII. A counsel, near akin to that which has been 
just given, is, " govern four tongue." More sin. it 
is probable, is committed, and more mischief done, by 
this small member, than in all other ways. The faculty 
of speech is one of our most useful endowments, but it 
is exceedingly liable to abuse. Ho who knows how 
to bridle his tongue, is. therefore, in Scripture, denom- 
inated 4 -a perfect man ;" and again, of him tk who seem- 
eth to be religious and bridleth not his tongue/ 1 it is 
declared that "that man's religion is vain." The 
words which we Utter are a fair index of the moral 
stale of the mind. " By thy words," saith our Lord, 
"shalt thou he justified, and by thy words shalt thou 
be condemned." Not only arc sins of the tongue more 
numerous than others, but some of them are the most 
heinous of which man can be guilty — even that one 
sin which has no forgiveness, is a sin of the ton_ 

Not, only should ail profaneness, obscenity, and false- 
hood, he put far away, but you should continually en- 
deavour to render your conversation useful. — He I 
ready to communicate knowledge, to suggest profitable 
id^as, to recommend virtue and religion, to rebuke sin, 
and to give glory to God. Beware of evil-speaking. 
A habit of detraction is one of the worst which you 
can contract, and is always indicative of an envious 
and malignant heart. Instead of prostituting this active 
and useful member to the purposes of slander, employ 
it in defending the innocent and the injured. 

Permit me to suggest the following brief rules foi 
the government of the tongue. Avoid loquacity. " In 
J'e multitude of words there wanteth not sin." If you 






TO THE YOUNG. • 359 

have nothing to communicate which can be useful, be 
silent. Think before you speak. How many painful 
anxieties would be prevented by obeying this simple, 
common-sense precept. Especially, be cautious about 
uttering any thing in the form of a promise, without 
consideration. Be conscientiously regardful of truth, 
even to a tittle, in all that you say. Never speak what 
will be likely to excite bad feelings, of any kind, in the 
minds of others. Be ready, on all suitable occasions, 
to give utterance to good sentiments, especially such as 
may be useful to the young. Listen respectfully to 
the opinions of others, but never fail to give your tes- 
timony modestly, but firmly, against error. " Let your 
speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt. Let 
no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, 
but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it 
may minister grace unto the hearers." 

XIV. Keep a good conscience. If wickedness had 
no other punishment than the stings of conscience which 
follow evil actions, it would be reason enough to induce 
every considerate man to avoid that which is produc- 
tive of so much pain. No misery of which the human 
mind is susceptible is so intolerable and so irremediable 
as remorse of conscience. And it is liable to be renew- 
ed as often as the guilty action is distinctly recollected. 
It is true, the conscience, by means of error and repeat- 
ed resistance to its dictates, may become callous— 
" seared as with a hot iron ;" but this apparent death 
of moral sensibility, is no more than a sleep. At an 
unexpected time, and in circumstances the most incon- 
venient, conscience may be aroused, and may exert a 
more tremendous power than was ever before expe- 
rienced. The long arrearages of sins committed, while 
no notice seemed to be taken of them, now demand 
and enforce consideration. Joseph's brethren seem to 
have almost forgotten their unnatural and cruel con- 
duct in selling him as a slave into a foreign country; 
but when many years had elapsed, and they found 
themselves environed with difficulties and dangers in 
that very land, the remembrance of their crime pain- 
fully rushed upon their minds, and extorted from them 



360 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 

mutual confessions of their guilt. "God," said they, 
" hath found out the iniquity of thy servants." " And 
they said one to another, we are verily guilty eoncerr. 
ing our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul, 
when he besought us, and we would not hear; th 
fore is this distress come upon us." Men often endea- 
vour to escape from the stings of a guilty conscu 
by a change of place ; but the remedy is ineffectual. 
The transgressor may traverse the widest ocean, and 
transcend the loftiest mountains, and may bury him 
in the dark recesses of the desert, but he cannot lly so 
far, nor conceal himself so effectually, as to escape 
from his tormentor. In some eases, the agonies of re- 
morse have been so intolerable, thai the guilty perpe- 
trator of great wickedness has preferred ( strangling 
and death' to a miserable life, and has rushed uncalled 
into the presence of his Judge. And in oth< 
men guilty of bloody crimes have found the pangs of 
remorse so intolerable thai they have voluntarily given 
themselves up to justice 5 and by* a voluntary confes- 
sion, have convicted themselves, when no human wit- 
nesses were competent to prove their guilt But what 
man is there who has not committed sins, the recollec- 
tion of which gives him sensible pain? And such acts 
often stand out in strong relief in the retrospect of the 
past. No effort can obliterate such things from the 
memory. We may turn away our eyes from the disa- 
greeable object : but the painful idea will return again ; 
and thus men whose consciences are not seared, are 
haunted by guilt as by a troublesome ghost ; and often 
their sins find them out, and stare them in the 1 
when danger threatens, or when calamity has over- 
taken them. Why moral sensibility should be so much 
more exquisite at some times than others, cannot be 
easily explained; but the fact is certain, and is proba- 
bly familiar to the consciousness of all. There may 
indeed exist a morbid susceptibility, an unreasonable 
scrupulousness and terror of conscience, which is a real 
and distressing disease, and which yields only to phy 
sical remedies judiciously applied. Melancholy is not 
the effect of religious impressions ; but is a state of 






\ 

TO THE YOUNG. 36/ 

nind of a most unhappy kind, produced by a derange 
ment of the physical system, and which leads the sub- 
ject of it to fix his thoughts on those things which are 
nost awful and gloomy. The same is true in regard 
o insanity. Many people entertain strong prejudiced* 
igainst experimental religion, because they apprehend 
hat it endangers the reason, and drives the timid and 
vveak-minded into mania. 

Now it is no doubt true, that any strong emotion or 
passion may, when there exists a predisposition to the 
disease, disturb the regular exercise of reason ; but 
that this danger is greater to persons deeply exercised 
about religion than to others, is utterly without founda- 
tion. Fanaticism, it may be conceded, has a tendency 
o insanity. Indeed, it has long appeared to me, that 
fanaticism, especially in its mildest forms, is nothing 
else than a species of insanity. I have upon no other 
nypothesis been able to account for the opinions and 
conduct of some persons who have been led away into 
tne excesses of enthusiasm. But what is the most 
effectual preservative from this kind of mental derange- 
ment? Is it irreligion, vice, and infidelity? By no 
means. Persons who take refuge in such things, find 
.hem to be " refuges of lies." The only effectual rem- 
edy against the misery of a disturbed mind and a guilty 
conscience, is true religion. For this wound the balm 
)f Gilead is the only medicine which is proved by ex- 
perience to be efficacious. He who is able to cherish 
a lively hope of happiness beyond the grave, who can 
ook up to God as a reconciled Father, and who feels 
good will to all men, has surely within him the ingre- 
dients of a settled peace of mind. When I counsel 
yon, my young friends, to keep a good conscience, I 
mean, that you should, in the first place, endeavour to 
obtain this inestimable blessing, by an application to 
'•the blood of sprinkling." Until the soul is justified 
and sin pardoned, there can be no true peace of con- 
science. While the law remains unsatisfied for us, 
mid denounces vengeance against us for our sins, what 
in the universe can give us peace ? But when by faith 
(he soul apprehends the atonement, and sees that it is 

31 



362 counsels or the aged 

commensurate to all the demands of the law, and that 
in the cross, justice is not only satisfied, but gloriously 
illustrated, it is at once relieved from the agony of 
guilt, and the peace of God which passeth understand- 
ing pervades the soul. The great secret of genuine 
peace is, therefore, living faith in the blood of Christ. 
Hut if you would preserve your conscience pure and 
enjoy peace, you must not only obtain for i for 

the past, but must be very careful to sin no more in 
future. The law of God is exceeding broad, and if 
we would preserve peace of conscience, we must con- 
form our actions to its precepts with assiduous and 
holy diligence. 

A good conscience is always an enlightened con- 
rice. Through error, a man may believe that 1 
doing God service, wbeii b<' is | ing bis people ; 

bul such a con» ien >d. Men may act con- 

scientiously, mid yet act very wickedly. I sup} 
that nil the devotees i^\ the mosl absurd and impious 
superstition, act according to the dictates of conscience, 
even when they sacrifice human beings, and expose to 
death their own offspring, or themselves; but who 
would say that such a conscience was good? The 
correct knowledge of truth, therefore, lies at the foun- 
dation of a good conscience. Nothing is more impor- 
tant to man than the truth; therefore "buy the truth 
and sell it not." But too often conscience is not re- 
garded when it correctly dictates what should be done 
or avoided. Amidst the cravings of appetite, the storm 
of the passions, and the incessant bustle of the world, 
the whispers of conscience are not heeded. In multi- 
tudes of instances, where persons do wrong, tb 
a premonition of the evil; or, at least, a suggestion, 
that it is proper to inquire and consider what duty is 
Some persons are conscientious in great matters, who, 
in comparatively small concerns, seem to have no 
moral discernment. The habit of consulting the moral 
sense in all things is of great importance. Before you 
act, consider; and beware of the false colouring winch 
passion and self-interest throw around the subject 
duty. Lean to the safe side Where an action is of 



TO THE YOUNG. J63 

dubious character, do not venture upon it. Be fully 
persuaded in your own mind, " for whatsoever is not 
of faith is siu. ,, Some persons are conscientious and 
punctilious about little things, but careless about the 
weightier matters of the law. This is the conscience 
of a hypocrite. Others have a mind ill at ease, because 
the festering wound of guilt has never been thoroughly 
probed and cleansed, but merely externally healed. 
Their repentance has not been deep enough, nor uni- 
versal enough: some secret sin is still too much in- 
dulged. Now, while these are the facts, a good con- 
science is an impossible thing. Sincere penitence, 
humiliation and confession, are God's prescribed reme- 
dy, and where these are wanting the conscience will 
not be at peace. 

Now whatever may be the infirmity or moral defect 
which cleaves to us, it is odious in the sight of God, 
and tends to grieve the Holy Spirit. In just judgment, 
we are left to darkness, barrenness, and misery, because 
we have not snfficiently desired deliverance from sin , 
but have made vain excuses for our own faults. 1 
would then counsel you, especially, to cherish the mo- 
tions of the Holy Comforter. By his divine influences 
alone, a good conscience can be maintained. And if 
you are sensible that you have grieved the Spirit, so 
that you are left comfortless, never rest until you again 
experience the peace and joy, which is the fruit of his 
indwelling. 

XV. Cultivate peace. Next to the blessing of 
peace with God and in our own conscience, is that of 
peace with our fellow men. "As much as lieth in 
you, live peaceably with all men." And again, " fol- 
low peace with all men." The true source of all the 
wars, contentions, and disturbances which are in the 
world, is the pride, the envy, the covetousness, and 
other evil passions of our nature. Eradicate these, 
and in their place introduce pure and kind affections, 
'.nd you will experience a double peace — peace within, 
and peace without. Every Christian temper is friendly 
to peace. I know, indeed, that Christ says, that h( 
came not to bring peace but a sword : but he refers 



364 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 

not to the nature of his religion, but to the event which 
he foresaw would occur, from the perverse opposition 
of men, to that which is good. The genuine spirit and 
tendency of the gospel is beautifully and emphatically 
expressed in the angelic anthem, sung by the celestial 
choir at the nativity of our Saviour — " Glory to God in 
the highest, and on earth peace; good will to men." 
All the adopted sons of God are sons of pram; and 
are peace-makers. " Live in pe ce," says Paul, "atid 
the God of peace shall be with you." Humility,]); 
ness, and benevolence, must, from the nature of the 
case, have a mighty influence in producing and main- 
taining peace. For, as the apostle Peter argues, M who 
will harm you, if ye be followers ui that which is 
good." No system was ever so well adapted to pro- 
duce universal peace as Christianity; and the only 
reason why this effect has not followed its reception 
everywhere, is, that its true spirit has not been im- 
bibed. Just so far as this blessed system is cordially 
embraced, it cuts up by the roots all causes of conten- 
tion; except that which has for its subjects sin and error. 
It teaches us not only to love our friends and brethren 
but also our bitterest enemies; to return blessing for 
cursing, and kindness for ill treatment. Endeavoui 
then, to cherish habitually those kind affections which 
lead to peace ; and while you seek peace in your own 
souls, make it an object to promote peace in the world, 
and covet the blessedness which is pronounced to 
long to peace-makers. Their high honour it is to he 
denominated "the sons of God." 

XVI. As "man is born to sorrow as the sparks ily 
upwards;" as no situation is exempt from the arrows 
of adversity, I would give it as a necessary counsel, to 
learn to bear affliction with fortitude and resignation. 
To dream of escaping what is appointed unto all, 
would be to fall wilfully into a dangerous delusion. 
Every man is vulnerable in so many points, that 
nothing short of a perpetual miracle could shield any 
one from the strokes of adversity. Indeed, piety o[ 
the most exalted kind does not secure its possessor 
from affliction and persecution. Christ himself sulFered 



TO THE YOUNG. 365 

cvhile in the world, and has left his followers a perfect 
example of holy fortitude, and filial submission to the 
will of God. When sorely pressed with the incon- 
ceivable load of our sins, so that his human soul could 
not have sustained it unless supported by the divine 
nature, his language was, " Not my will but thine be 
done." Those afflictions which are allotted to the 
people of God, are necessary parts of salutary discipline, 
intended to purify them from the dross of sin, and to 
prepare them for the service of God here, and his en- 
joyment in the world to come. They are, therefore, to 
them, not penal judgments, but fatherly chastisements, 
which, though "not joyous but grievous" for the pre- 
sent, " afterwards work for them the peaceable fruits 
of righteousness." But whatever may be our moral 
and spiritual condition, whether we are friends or 
enemies to God, we must be subject to various afflic- 
tions. This is a dying world. The nearest and dearest 
friends must part. Death sunders the tenderest ties, 
and often pierces the susceptible heart with a keener 
anguish, by directing the mortal stroke to a dear com- 
panion, or child, than if it had fallen on our own head. 
When I see youth rejoicing in the sanguine hopes and 
brilliant prospects which the deceitful world spreads out 
before them, I am prevented from sympathizing with 
their happy feelings, by the foresight of a speedy end 
to all their earthly pleasures. Their laughter will be 
converted into mourning. Their day of bright sun- 
shine will soon be overcast with dark clouds ; and all 
their brilliant prospects will be obscured, and the over- 
whelming gloom of sorrow will envelope them. 

It is indeed, no part of wisdom to torment our minds 
with vain terrors of evils which are merely possible. 
Many persons suffer more in the apprehension of ca- 
lamities, than they would if they were present. The 
imagination represents scenes of adversity in a hue 
darker than the reality. In regard to such evils, our 
Saviour has taught us not to yield to useless anxieties 
about the future, but to trust to Providence. " Let the 
morrow take care of itself." But that to which T 
would bring my youthful readers is a state of mina 

31* 



366 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 

prepared for adversity, of whatever kind it may be : 
that they may not be taken by surprise when calamity 
falls upon them. And when the dark day of adversity 
arrives, be not dismayed, but put your trust in the 
Lord, and look to Him for strength to endure what- 
ever may be laid upon you. Never permit yourselves 
to entertain hard thoughts of God, on account of any 
of his dispensations. They may be dark' and raj 
rious, but they are all wise and good. What we can- 
not understand now, we shall be privileged to know 
hereafter. Exercise an uncomplaining submission to 
the will of God, as developed in the events of Provi- 
dence. Believe steadfastly that all things are under 
the government of wisdom and goodness. Remember 

that whatever sufferings you may he called to .'inhire, 
they are always less than your sins deserve : and con- 
sider, that these afflictive dispensations are fraught with 

rich, spiritual blessings. They are not only useful, but 

necessary. We should perish with a wick< d world, if 
a kind Father did not make use of the rod to reclaim 
us from our wanderings. Besides, there is no situation 
in which we can more glorify (^m\, than when in th»> 
furnace of affliction. The i of faith, and hum- 

ble resignation, with patience and fortitude, under the 
pressure of heavy calamity, is most pleasing to (, 
and illustrates clearly the excellency of religion which 
is able to bear up the mind, and even render it cheer- 
ful, in the midst of scenes of trouble. Bear then, with 
cheerful submission, the load which may he laid upon 
you; and learn from Paul to rejoice even in the midst 
of tribulation. And not only bear your cross with 
cheerful resignation, but endeavor to extract from sor- 
row a rich spiritual blessing. While enjoying such an 
effectual means of grace, improve it to the utmost, to 
promote growth in the divine life. Be willing to suffer 
any pain which will render you more holy. Although 
we naturally desire uninterrupted prosperity, yet if 
the desire of our hearts was always given to us, it 
would prove ruinous. 

And when schooled in adversity, you will be better 
malified to sympathize with the children of sorrow, 



TO THE YOUNG. 36 7 

and better skilled in affording them comfort, than if 
you had no experience of trouble. 

XVII. My next counsel is, that you set a high 
value upon your time. Time is short; and its flight is 
rapid. The swiftness of the lapse of time is proverbial 
in all languages. In Scripture, the life of man is com- 
pared to a multitude of things which quickly pass 
away, after making their appearance ; as to a post, a 
weaver's shuttle, a vapour, a shadow, &c. All the 
works of man must be performed in time ; and what- 
ever acquisition is made of any good, it must be obtained 
in time. Time, therefore, is not only short, but precious. 
Every thing is suspended on its improvement, and it 
can only be improved when present ; and it is no 
sooner present, than it is gone : so that whatever we 
do must be done quickly. The precious gift is spar- 
ingly parcelled out, by moments, but the succession of 
these is rapid and uninterrupted. Nothing can impede 
or retard the current of this stream. Whether we are 
awake or asleep, whether occupied or idle, whether we 
attend to the fact or not, we are borne along by a si- 
lent, but irresistible force. Our progressive motion in 
time, may be compared to the motion of the planet on 
which we dwell, of which we are entirely insensible ; 
or, to that of a swift-sailing ship, which produces the 
illusion that all other objects are in motion, while we 
seem to be stationary. So in the journey of life, we 
pass from stage to stage, from infancy to childhood, 
from childhood to youth, from youth to mature age, 
and finally, ere we are aware of it, we find ourselves 
declining towards the last stage of earthly existence. 
The freshness and buoyancy of youth soon pass away: 
the autumn of life, with its "sere leaf," soon arrives; 
and next, and last, if disease or accident do not cut 
short our days, old age with its gray hairs, its wrinkles, 
its debility and pains, comes on apace. This period is 
described by the wise man, as one in which men are 
commonly disposed to be querulous, and to acknow 
'edge that the days draw nigh in which they have no 
pleasure. "The keepers of the house tremble, and the 
strong men bow themselves, and the grinders cease 



368 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 

because they are few, and those that look out of the 
windows are darkened. When men rise up at the 
noise of the bird — when all the daughters of music are 
brought low, and there shall be tears. And the almond 
tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper be a burden.' 1 

Time wasted can never be recovered. No man 
ever poj the same moment twice. We are. in- 

deed, exhorted ft to redeem our time," but this n 
to a right improvement of that which is to come; for 
this is the only possible way by which we can redeem 
what is irrevocably past. The counsels which I would 
offer to the young on this subjecl are: Think 
quently and seriously on the inestimable valu- 
t i i ii<». Never forgel that all that is dear and worth 
pursuit musl b \ accomplished in the short span of tune 
allotted to us here. Meditate also profoundly, and 
often, on the celerity of the flight of time. Now you 
are in the midst of youthful bloom, but soon tin- 
will only exist in the dim shades of recollection, and 
unless it has been well improved, of bitter regn 

It' y«>u will make a wise improvement of your til 
you must he prompt. Seize the fugitive moment* 
they fly ; for, otherwise, they will pass away be' 
you have commenced the work which is appropria 
to them. 

Diligence and constancy are essential to the right 
improvement of time. " Whatsoever thy hand findeth 
to do, do it with thy might." " Work while it is called 
to-day." Walk while you have the light : for the 
dark night rapidly approaches, when no work can be 
done. 

Let every thing be done in its season. There is a time 
lor all things; and let all things be done in order. The 
true order of things may be determined by their rela 
tive importance, and by the urgency of the case, or the 
loss which would probably be sustained by neglect. 

If you would make the most of your time, learn to 
lo one thing at once, and endeavour so to perform every 
work, as to accomplish it in the best possible manner. 
As you receive but one moment at once, it is a vain 
thing to think of doing more than one thing at one 



TO THE YOUNG. 369 

time ; and if any work deserves your attention at all, it 
deserves to be well done. Confusion, hurry, and heed 
lessness, often so mar a business, that it would have 
been better to omit it altogether. 

Beware of devolving the duty of to-day on to- 
morrow. This is called procrastination, which is said, 
justly, to be "the thief of time." Remember, that 
every day, and every hour, has its own appropriate 
work; but if that which should be done this day, is 
deferred until a future time, to say the least, there must 
be an inconvenient accumulation of duties in future. 
But as to-morrow is to every body uncertain, to sus- 
pend the acquisition of an important object on such 
a contingency, may be the occasion of losing forevei 
the opportunity of receiving it. The rule of sound dis- 
cretion is, never to put off till to-morrow, what ought 
to be done to-day. 

XVIII. Cherish and diligently cultivate genuine 
piety. " The fear of the Lord is the beginning of 
wisdom." 

Early piety is the most beautiful spectacle in the 
world. Without piety all your morality, however 
useful to men, is but a shadow. It is a branch without 
a root. Religion, above every other acquisition, en- 
riches and adorns the mind of man ; and it is especially 
congenial with the natural susceptibilities of the youth- 
ful mind. The vivacity and versatility of youth, the 
tenderness and ardour of the affections in this age, ex- 
hibit piety to the best advantage. How delightful is 
it, to see the bosoms of the young swelling with the 
lively emotions of pure devotion ! How beautiful is the 
tear of penitence or of holy joy, which glistens in the 
eye of tender youth ! Think not, dear young people, 
that true religion will detract from your happiness. It 
is a reproach cast upon your Maker, to indulge such a 
thought. It cannot be. A God of goodness never re- 
quired any thing of his creatures, which did not tend 
to their true felicity. Piety may indeed lead you to ex- 
change the pleasures of the theatre and ball-room, for the 
purer joys of the churchand prayer-meeting. It may turn 
your attention from books of mere idle fancy and fiction, 



370 COUNSELS OF THE AGED 

to the word of God, which to a regenerated soul, is 
found to be sweeter than honey, and more excellent 
than the choicest gold; but this will add to your hap- 
piness, rather than diminish it. We would then al 
tionr^eiy and earnestly exhort and entreat you. to u re- 
me.iiber now your Creator in the daysofyour youth." 
This will be your best security against all the danj 
and temptations to which you are exposed; this will 
secure to you " the favour of God which is life, and his 
loving kindness which is better than life." Delay not 
your conversion ; every day is lost time, which is not 
spent in the service of God. Besides, procrastination 
has proved ruinous to many. Eternity is at hand ; the 
judgment day must be met, and how can we appear 
there, without piety ? This is our only preparation and 
passport for heaven. Dear youth, he wise, an i secure 
an inheritance among the saints in light. God in\ 
you to he reconciled. Christ extends his arms of mercy 
to secure you. Angels are waiting to rejoice at your 
conversion, and to become your daily and nightly guar- 
dians. The doors of the church will be opened to re- 
ceive you. The ministers of the gospel, and all the 
company of believers, will hail your entrance and will 
ome you to the precious ordinances of God's house. 
And, finally, remember, that ** now is the accepted time 
and the day of salvation/' 

XIX. Seek divine direction and aid, by incessant, 
fervent prayer. You need grace to help you every day. 
Your own wisdom is folly, your own strength weak- 
ness, and your own righteousness altogether insufficient. 
" It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps." 
But if you lack wisdom, you are permitted to ask; and 
you have a gracious promise, that you shall receive. 
Whatever we need will be granted, if we humbly and 
believingly ask for it. "Ask and ye shall receive, seek 
and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto 
you." " Be careful for nothing, but in every thing with 
prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your 
requests be made known unto God." 

Faith and prayer are our chief resource under all the 
various and heavy afflictions of this life. When rlJ 



TO THE YOUNG. 371 

other refuges fail, God will hide his people who seek 
Him in his secret pavilion, and shelter them under the 
shadow of his wings. Prayer is essential to the exist- 
ence and growth of the spiritual life. It is the breath 
of the new man. By this means he obtains quick re- 
lief from innumerable evils; and draws down from 
heaven blessings of the richest and sweetest kind. 
Possess your minds fully of the persuasion, that prayer 
is efficacious, when offered in faith and with impor- 
tunity, to obtain the blessings which we need. God 
has made himself known as a hearer of prayer: yea, 
he has promised that we shall have, as far as may be 
for his glory and our good, whatever we ask. The 
most important events may be brought about by prayer. 
One righteous man, by fervent and effectual prayer, has 
been able to shut heaven and open it again. Kow 
often did Moses by his prayers avert the divine wrath 
from the people of Israel ! That man who has access 
to a throne of grace will never want any thing which 
is really needful. " God will give grace and glory, and 
no good thing will he withhold from them that walk up- 
rightly." " But He will be inquired of by the house 
of Israel for this thing that he may do it for them." 
Banish, as most unreasonable, the idea that prayer is a 
dull or melancholy business. Such a sentiment must 
have been invented by Satan; for it never couid have 
been suggested by reason, or taught by experience. 
Intercourse with the greatest and best of all Beings 
must be a source of exalted pleasure; and surely, man 
can have no greater honour and privilege conferred 
upon him. than to be admitted to converse intimately 
and confidentially with the God whom angels adore. 
The experience of every saint attests, that " it is good 
to draw near to God ;" and that " one day in his couits 
is better than a thousand." I need not be afraid, there- 
fore, to counsel the young to cultivate the spirit of 
prayer, and to be constant in its exercise. "Pray with- 
out ceasing." "Be instant in prayer." It will not 
spoil your pleasures, but will open for you new souices 
of enjoyment, far more refined and satisfactory, than 
any which prayerless persons can possess. Prayer is 



372 COUNSELS OF THE AGED. 

the only method by which intercourse between heaven 
and earth can be kept open. Often, too, in the perfor 
mance of this duty, a taste of heaven is brought down 
to earth ; and the pious worshipper anticipates, in some 
degree, those joys which are ineffable and eternal.— 
Prayer will, moreover, be your most effectual guard 
against sin and the power of temptation : 

" For Satan trembles, when he sees 
The weakest saint upon his knees." 

XX. I conclude my counsels to the young, by a 

scnous and affectionate recommendation to every one 
who reads these pages, to make immediate preparation 
for death. I know that gay youth are unwilling to 
hear this subject mentioned. There is nothing which 

casts a greater damp upon their spirits, than the solemn 
fact that death must he encountered : and that no earthly 
possessions or circumstances can secure us from be- 
coming his victims, on any day. But if it is acknow- 
ledged that this formidable evil is inevitable, and that 
the tenure' by which we hold our grasp of life is \ 
fragile, why should we act so unreasonably, and 1 may 
say, madly, as to shut our eyes against the danger? 
If, indeed, there was no way of preparing to meet this 
eveih. there might he some reason for turning away 
our thoughts from immediate destruction: but if by at- 
tention and exertion, it is possible to make preparation 
for death, then nothing can be conceived more insane, 
than to refuse to consider our latter end. — How often 
are we called to witness the decease of blooming youth, 
in the midst of all their pleasures and prospects! Such 
scenes have been exhibited within the observation of 
all of you. Dear friends and companions have been 
snatched away from the side of some of you. The gr 
has closed upon many whose prospects of long life were 
as favourable as those of their survivors. Now. my 
dear young friends, what has so frequently happened 
m relation to so many others, may take place with re- 
gard to some of you. This year you may be called 
to bid farewell to all your earthly prospects, and all 
your beloved relatives. The bare possibility of such 






TO THE YOUNG. 373 

an event ought to have the effect of engaging youi 
most serious attention, and of leading you to immediate 

preparation. Do you ask what preparation is necessary? 
I answer, reconciliation with God, and a meetness for the 
employments and enjoyments of the heavenly state. 
Preparation for death includes repentance towards God 
for all our sins, trust in the Lord Jesus Christ and reliance 
on his atoning sacrifice, regeneration of heart, and refor- 
mation of life ; and, finally, a lively exercise of piety, ac- 
companied with a comfortable assurance of the divine 
favour. In short, genuine and lively piety forms the 
essence of the needed preparation. With this your 
death will be safe, and your happiness after death 
secure ; but to render a death-bed not only safe but 
comfortable, you must have a strong faith, and clear 
evidence that your sins are forgiven, and that you have 
passed from death unto life. Be persuaded, then, be- 
fore you give sleep to your eyes, to commence your 
return unto God, from whom like lost sheep you have 
strayed. "Prepare to meet your God." "Be ye also 
ready, for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of 
man cometh." 

Seek deliverance from the fear of death by a believ- 
ing application to Him who came on purpose to deliver 
us from this bondage. With his presence and guidance 
we need fear no evil, even while passing through the 
gloomy valley and shadow of death. He is able by 
his rod and his staff to comfort us, and to make us con 
querors over this last enemy. 



COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 



When I address myself to Christian Mothers, I do not 
mean to intimate that those who cannot with propriety 
be thus addressed, stand in no need of admonition. 
Alas! that in a Christian country there should be 
mothers who have nothing of the spirit of Christ. 
Young persons often promise themselves that they will 
attend to religion after they are married and settled in 
the world. How preposterous is this! It ought rather 
to be their resolution not to think of entering into a 
state involving such weighty responsibilities, and the 
exercise of so many virtues, until they have become 
the possessors of true religion. Without piety how is 
it possible for any woman rightly to fulfil the duties of 
a wife, and especially of a mother? Some correct 
views on this subject probably led the legislators of one 
of the provinces of 1 [o I land, as I have read some where, 
to enact, a law, that whenever any persons applied to 
be united in marri y should produce evidence 

that they were in the full communion of the church. 
But this was a dangerous misapplication of a sound 
principle. Just as in the case of civil rulers, it is ex- 
ceedingly important that they who are appointed to 
rule over men should be truly pious; hut ii 
mistake in legislation, to make the profession of reli- 
gion a qualification for office. But while I would 
not have a law requiring piety as a qualification 
for entering into the band of matrimony. I would 
still insist upon it, that no woman, destitute of 
religion, is fit to become a wife and mother. Only 
think of it — an irreligious mother! If it were not 
so common, the very expression would excite emo- 
tions similar to those which we experience, when we 

374 



COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 375 

hear of an irreligious minister of the gospel. 1 address 
Christian mothers, because from them only can I ex- 
pect a patient hearing. I address Christian mothers, 
because all mothers ought to be sincere Christians. Is 
there a person on earth, whose mind is so perverted by 
prejudice, as not to perceive a congruity between piety 
and this tender relation? It was formerly a current 
opinion, even among infidels, in Virginia, that religion 
was an ornament and safeguard to a woman. I knew 
one distinguished man who had renounced all belief 
in the Christian religion himself, who encouraged it in 
his wife, and furnished her with all the necessary means 
of attending church; and when one of his friends com- 
plained to him, that his wife was becoming religious, 
which gave him great concern, he told him that he was 
a fool, for that nothing was more suitable and desirable, 
than that a wife should be pious. Even infidels are 
constrained, like the demons of old, to give their testi- 
mony in favour of Christ. Many irreligious men de- 
sire to obtain wives of genuine piety; and few intelli- 
gent men in our country would be pleased with a female 
infidel. Such a character was so rare in Virginia forty 
years ago, when infidelity abounded among the higher 
classes of men, that when a certain lady was pointed 
out as the advocate of deistical opinions, it created a 
revulsion of feeling in almost every mind. Here I take 
pleasure in saying, that in no class of society any 
where, have I found examples of more pure and ele- 
vated piety than among the ladies of Virginia. And 
I have reason to believe that these examples have 
rather been increased than diminished since I left my 
native State. It may, in an important sense, be said 
that the Commonwealth has been preserved from utter 
destruction by the prudence, purity and piety of Vir- 
ginia mothers. They have been the salt which has 
arrested the progress of moral corruption in the mass 
of society. Accordingly, there is no country in the 
world, perhaps, where mothers are so much respected 
by their children, and have so great an influence over 
them. Ask almost any young Virginian, where he wili 



376 COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 

look for the brightest examples of moral excellence, 
and his thoughts will turn at once to the character of 
pious females, and perhaps to his own mother, if 
happens to be pious. I recollect a young gentleman, 
who, although he had an uncommonly pious mot 
broke over all the restraints of his education, and 
a professed infidel, and the advocate of licentious 
in its vilest forms; but a gracious God heard the un- 
ceasirig prayers of his mother, and by means somewhat 
unusual, he was converted from (he error of his w 
In speaking of his former career — which he evident!) 
did with shame and humility — he said. - I could L r ei 
over all arguments in defence of religion hut one, and 
that I never could obviate, which was the pi< 
ample and conversation of my mother. When I had 
fortified myself against the truth, by the aid of Bol 
broke, Hume, and Voltaire; yet, whenever I thou 
of my mother, 1 had tl I conviction which no- 

thing could remove, that there was a reality in religi< 

I could soon fill my paper with salutary precepts for 
mothers; hut this is not exactly what is wanted. 
Knowledge as to maternal duty, is widely diffused. 
The theory i)[ education, as it falls under the direction 
of mothers, is perhaps sufficiently understood by most. 
What I aim at. is •• to stir up their pure minds by v. 
of remembrance," or in other words, to arouse them 
to the consideration of the importance of the station 
winch they occupy, and to persuade them to exert that 
influence which they possess. I have often fa 
pious females complain that they had little or nothing 
in their power, and they felt as if they were almost 
useless members of society. This is an egregious mis- 
calculation. Their influence is silent and spreads im- 
perceptibly, but it is real and effective. Piety is like 
light, which cannot be hid. The more it seeks con- 
cealment, and retires from public notice, the more 
brightly it shines. Female influence only . or 

operates unfavourably, when women depart from their 
own proper sphere ; or when they endeavour to obtrude 
themselves upon the notice and admiration of the pub 



COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. bll 

iic. As we are shocked with infidelity in a female, so 
female ambition is odious. Let the devoted mother 
exert herself in her own proper sphere, which is in the 
retirement of the domestic circle, and in constant and 
devout attendance on the worship of God. Let her 
look well to the affairs of her household. Let her 
manifest her benignity and forbearance in the steady 
government of her children and servants. Let her set 
an example of order, neatness, industry, and hospitality, 
and she will have enough to do. Every hour, and 
almost every minute, will furnish opportunity for the 
exercise of some virtue; and that Eye which goes every 
where, will graciously notice and bring to light too, 
those acts which are cheerfully and conscientiously 
performed. A mother cannot be placed in a more in- 
teresting field of labour, than in the midst of a large 
circle of children. Here is her appropriate sphere of 
action. Here she has work enough to occupy her 
heart and hands. 

But some will be ready to think this is a nar- 
row field in which to labour. They wish to act 
on a larger scale, and do something which will tell 
on the destinies of men — something more intimately 
connected with the conversion of the world. Some 
few women, by the possession of peculiar talents, and 
by being placed in peculiar circumstances, have been 
able to accomplish so much that the world has been 
filled with their fame. Such was the brilliant course 
of Mrs. Hannah More, who by her benevolent exer- 
tions, and by her writings, became the benefactress of 
the human race. And such is now the luminous orbit 
in which Mrs. Fry moves. But it falls to the lot of 
very few of either sex to do good on what may be 
called a national scale. And if ail should aim at such 
achievements, very little would be done. Much the 
larger part of the female sex must be contented to cul- 
tivate the small garden which providence has commit- 
ted to them. But as the mothers in ancient Israel were 
solicitous to bear sons, in hope that they might enjoy 
the honour and unspeakable pleasure of giving birth to 
the promised Messiah, so mothers now may cherish 

32* 



378 COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 

the pleasing hope that of the first fruit of their womb, 
God will raise up men of renown, eminent ministers, 
devoted missionaries, distinguished philanthropists, wise 
statesmen, or even men of humble, exemplary piety in 
retired life. Hannah waited with God for her Samuel; 
and no doubt before the child was born, she consecrated 
him to Gocl, from whom she received him; and when 
she embraced him in her arms, and nursed him at her 
breast, she continually darted up petitions for God's 
blessing upon his own precious gift. And 0! how 
richly was she rewarded. I have read or heard that 
some one asked an uncommonly devout woman, how 
it happened thai all her children became pious at an 
so early. The good woman modestly disclaimed 
all merit or agency in the affair; but said she, "as 
many children as I have nursed, I never took on( 
them to my breast, to afford it th< i necessary nourish- 
ment, but at the same time I lifted up my heart in 
prayer to God for his blessing on the dear little infant." 
Would not this be a good rule for mothers universally 
to observe ? Who can tell what the effect would be 
on the next generation? The question is often asked, 
"By whom shall Jacob arise?" One answers one 
thing, and one another; bill if I may be permitted to 
give a partial answer, though I believe a true one, I 
would say, BY pious mothers. Y a, as a woman had 
the unspeakable blessing of being the mother of our 
Lord and Saviour; so woman, collectively, shall be 
the mother of the church. Ten thousand Loi$es and 
Eunices will, at the same time, be training their little 
Timothys on the knee, and with sweet and persuasive 
speech, instilling into their opening minds, the words 
of those "Holy Scripturks, which are able to make 
them wise unto salvation, through faith which is in 
Christ Jesus." A genuine and thorough reformation 
must commence in the family, which is the foundation 
of all social institutions, civil and religious. Here is 
the root, whence springs the whole tree with all its 
spreading and towering branches. And if true religion, 
to be general, must begin in the domestic circle, to 
whom will belong the chief agency and the most dis- 



COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 37ft 

tinguished honour? Undoubtedly to pious mothers. 
Theirs must be the hands which plant the precious 
seed — theirs the prayers and tears which water the 
growing plant — theirs the kind, seasonable, and well 
adapted instructions, which distil into the tender, sus- 
ceptible mind like the gentle rain on the tender grass, 
or the more imperceptible dew upon the thirsty plant. 
Those are not the most important lectures which are, 
with solemn pomp, delivered in the schools; but those 
which flow sweetly from the affectionate lips of moth- 
ers to their docile and interested group of little ones, 
gathered around their knees. No eloquence equals 
that of a sensible and pious mother, because no im- 
pressions made by human speech are so deep and indel- 
ible. These lessons, whether she knows it or not, she 
is engraving on fleshly tablets, from which the inscrip- 
tion can never wholly be obliterated. Impression after 
impression may be made on the same, but these have 
the advantage of being first and deepest; and when 
all the others are gone, these will be left. In visiting a 
family, belonging to my charge in Philadelphia, I ob- 
served a very brisk but old woman bringing chips into 
the house in her apron. I asked the lady of the house 
who it was. " It is my mother," said she, " but she 
no longer knows me." Upon inquiry, I found that she 
had forgotten every thing except what had occurred in 
her early life. And though she had left Switzerland 
when a girl of fourteen, and had not spoken the Ger- 
man language since that time, yet she now repeats her 
German prayers aloud every night. 

It w r ould be difficult to draw a definite line of distinc- 
tion between a good mother and a good wife. The 
character of the latter must have an important bearing 
on that of the former. For a woman to perform her 
part well when united with a worthy and affectionate 
husband is comparatively easy ; but when a pious 
woman of refined and susceptible feelings is connected 
with a man, whose true character and temper have 
been destroyed by habits of intoxication — when she 
is treated with brutal tyranny, and even cruelty, to pre- 
serve equanimity, and to perform the duties of an obe- 



580 COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 

client, respectful wife, requires the exercise of much 
self-denial ; and such a situation is one peculiarly pain- 
ful and trying to a pious mother ; but it is one to which 
many excellent women, in our day, have been sub- 
jected. But the greater the trial, the more grace is 
wanted; and the brighter the character, which is en- 
abled with meekness and fortitude, to bear up under 
such a burden. If such a calamity should come on a 
woman of refined feelings at once, it would be over- 
whelming; but she is gradually prepared for the worst, 
and learns to discipline her passions, so as to exhibit 
no temper unsuitable to her station, and the tender re- 
lation of a wife. She avoids reproaches, and in her 
mouth there are no reproofs. Some, change in her ap- 
pearance, and occasional spells of bitter weeping, when 
alone, will not escape the jealous eye of a drunkard; 
and it is not improbable thai such symptoms of deep 
distress as these, will only serve to provoke his ire, and 
cause him to rage more furiously, when under the in- 
ihi'Micc of his inebriating cups. And what can shi 
to her children as they become capable of observation? 
She never mentions the subject to them, if it can he 
avoided ; and when necessary, with no remarks which 
would tend to lessen their respect i'ov an unworthy pa- 
rent. She conceals from his children the faults and ill- 
treatment of the father as much as possible. And to 
all other persons, however intimate their mutual friend- 
ship, her lips are sealed. This is the difficulty of pa- 
tiently bearing this heavy burden, that it must be borne 
alone, in silence, without the usual relief derived from 
venting our sorrows into the bosom of a faithful, sym- 
pathizing friend. I know of no condition in human 
life, free from guilt, which is more deplorable than that 
of a lady of education, piety, and sensibility, tied to a 
brutal husband, who is seldom in his right mind ; or 
who, though for a season he may refrain, yet has his pa- 
roxysms of the worst species of insanity, to which our 
race is subject. This leads me to remark, that the very 
best view which a wife can take of such a case, is to 
consider it a real madness, and to feel and act just as 
if it was the effect of some physical cause. However 



COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 381 

difficult the practice of duty may be in such circum- 
stances, I have observed not a few examples of such 
consummate prudence, Christian fortitude, and meek 
forbearance, as excited my admiration. As gold is 
purified by the fire of the furnace, so it is probable that 
some women, under the pressure of such afflictions 
rise to an eminence of piety, to which in other circum 
stances they never could have attained. 

But I must not indulge myself in speaking in a 
strain too laudatory of Christian mothers. Some have 
great weaknesses, the effects of which upon the cha- 
racter and destinies of their children are very unhappy. 
I recollect to have once been acquainted with a Vir- 
ginia planter, of the best old stamp. He was rich, hos- 
pitable, kind hearted, and better than all, truly pious. 
When he heard the gospel, his whole soul seemed to be 
laid open to the impression of the truth; and so sus- 
ceptible was he, that often while the man of God de- 
scribed the love of a Saviour, the large, and not un- 
manly tear, would trickle down his cheek. He was 
a man without guile; and you always might know 
where to find him. But I was grieved and surprised 
to find that his sons were all profligates. By drinking 
and gambling and other vices, they soon ruined their re- 
putation, wasted their estates, injured their health, and 
shortened their lives. In searching for the cause of 
this wide departure from the example of a good and 
affectionate father, I traced it to the injudicious indul- 
gence of a fond mother. Not that she wished her 
sons to become dissipated; but when they did wrong, 
she carefully concealed their conduct from their father, 
connived at their vices, and afforded them facilities of 
gratifying their corrupt propensities, by plentifully sup- 
plying them with money. And with such care were 
their vices concealed from the unsuspecting father, that 
the first knowledge which he obtained was, when his 
sons' ruin was completed, and their habits so fixed, 
that all regard to decorum was laid aside, and even the 
displeasure of a father could be braved. 

Another class of mothers, happily not numerous, in- 



382 COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 

jure their children by a discipline too rigorous. They 
expect by external restraints and confinements to pre- 
serve them from temptation. The general principle is 
good, but may be pushed too far. A gradual exposure 
to such temptations as must be encountered in the 
world, is safer than for a son to be suddenly subjected 
to the whole influence of the world at once. If cbil- 
dren dislike the seventy of the discipline under which 
they are placed, they will be ingenious in finding op- 
portunities of evading a yoke which they do not like 
to bear. And when they gel free from parental re- 
straint, they will be apt to run to greater excess than 
others. 

W'lnh 1 sober, consistent piety in mothers has a pow- 
erful and lasting effect on children, fanaticism has a 
contrary tendency. The children of parents who in- 
dulge in extravagant expressions of religious 
and whose religion comes on in violent paroxysms, 

ill most eases, d< void of re Vep lire for sacred tie 
and often show a disreL r ;ird of moral principle. It is 
exceedingly important in the education and discipline 
of children, not to confound their notions of right and 
wrong by treating little matters with the same serious- 
ness and severity as great. Our instructions and con- 
duct towards children, should he such as to present to 
their minds, virtues and vie rding to a just gra- 

duation. If we pursue a peccadillo with as much 
severity as a great crime, the danger is, that a great 
crime will be committed with as little sense of its evil 
as a fault of the minor class. It is also dangerous to 
proclaim n crusade against some one vice, and magnify 
its evil beyond all comparison, while other vices equally 
or more malignant, pass unnoticed. So one virtue or 
duty may be held up so continually, and placed in such 
bold relief, that other virtues, equally important and 
valuable, are left concealed in the back ground. As 
in the Christian character, symmetry or a due propor- 
tion of every grace, is essential to perfection ; so in 
teaching morality, a strict regard should be had to the 
magnitude and proportion of every part of the system 



COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 383 

Let all vice be treated as vice ; but let not all vices be 
treated as equai; so let every virtue occupy its proper 
piace, and fill its due space. 

It is a good rule, even in the government of children, 
not to legislate too much. Vex them not with trivial 
and unnecessary rules. Train them to govern them- 
selves as much as possible. That child who is obedient 
only when the eye of the parent is on it, has not been 
properly managed. Allow children liberty in such 
things as are Innocent, and to which they are inclined 
by the instinct of nature. It is a poor, short-sighted 
plan to keep children moping all day over their books; 
they learn far more that is valuable while sporting in 
the fields, than we can teach them by such a process in 
the house. It is wonderful how much they learn with- 
out effort, both of words and things. 

We may even exceed the mark by inculcating re- 
ligion upon their tender minds too incessantly. Mothers 
should watch the favourable moment for instilling re- 
ligious instruction. One sentence at the favourable 
moment is better than a long lecture at an unseason- 
able time. Holiness cannot be rendered pleasing to 
the natural heart, but religious instruction may be made 
interesting. Indirect methods of reaching the con- 
science are often better than the more direct. Occa- 
sional remark* not seeming to be intended for them, 
are often noticed and remembered ; especially conver- 
sation with respectable strangers in their presence, has 
a wonderful effect. Let your children come early into 
company, that they may hear — that is, if the conversa- 
tion be edifying. By eliciting remarks on certain sub- 
jects from ministers and other respectable persons in the 
hearing of children, you will be likely to produce greater 
effect, than if the same things were addressed directly 
to them by their parents. 

Family slander is an evil against which mothers 
cannot too sedulously guard. There are some families 
who are extremely cautious about speaking evil of 
their neighbours out of their own houses ; but there 
they feel privileged ; and in the presence of their chil- 
dren, allow themselves great liberties in traducing the 



384 COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 

characters of those with whom they are living, osten 
sibly, in the habits of friendly intercourse. This is not 
only an evil habit, and readily contracted by children 
but it is the most effectual method of teaching them to 
play the hypocrite, by constantly assuming the app< 
ance of friendship, and using the language of kindn 
when a contrary feeling is habitually cherished. It is 
impossible to entertain sentiments of true friendship 
towards those whom we are in the practice of maligi 
every day. mothers, guard your children against 
this common vice; so freely indulged, and so little 
criminated by many. 

Akin to this, hut less malignant, is the practice of 
ridiculing the foibles, and caricaturing the impel 
tions or personal defects of our friends. In some whole 
families there exists ,-t talent for mimicry : they can so 
exactly imitate the tones, gestures, altitudes and man- 
ners of others, that the exercise of this faculty becomes 
a source of much amusement at the expense of their 
neighbours; especially when the quality or action imi- 
tated is a little exaggerated or distorted. This propen- 
sity should he carefully and resolutely repressed in 
young persons. It is very apt to occasion a separation 
or alienation of affection among friends : for who among 
us is willing to he laughed at lor tlie entertainment of 
others? 

There is no one thing on which mothers should insist 
more uniformly and peremptorily, than that their chil- 
dren should toll the truth, the whole trOth, and nothing 
hut the truth. Lying above all other things maybe 
said to be the vice of children. "We go astray from 
the womb, speaking lies." Children soon learn that 
others cannot look into their hearts: they will often 
therefore say what they know is not true, from the 
confidence that they cannot be detected. Keep a vi- 
gilant eye on this matter, and pass not slightly over an 
offence of this kind. Many worthy parents, I have ob- 
served, seem to know little, or care little about the 
habit of fibbing, in their children. Manifest by every 
prope* means your utter detestation of lying, in all its 
kiiK 1 ind degrees. 






COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 385 

I would also caution mothers against the fool- 
ish ambition of trying to make prodigies of their 
children ; and against the vanity of so exaggerating 
their smart speeches and exploits as to make them 
appear to be prodigies. I would not be so rigid as 
to prohibit mothers from speaking of their own dear 
offspring ; for out of the abundance of the heart 
the mouth will speak ; but I may advise you not to 
make your children the everlasting theme of your con- 
versation, morning, noon, and night. Rest assured, 
that other people do not take as much interest in the 
subject as you do. And while I would commend 
those mothers who are diligent in the instruction of 
their children, I would respectfully say, be thankful 
that they are not idiots, nor deformed, nor destitute of 
the common senses of human nature ; but be not anxious 
that they should be thought prodigies. Children may 
be so trained as to perform wonders, but what good 
can come of it ? Do we not see pigs trained in the same 
way ? Exercise a salutary discipline towards your 
children, even with the rod, when it is necessary ; but 
let this species of discipline be the last resort, and used 
rather seldom. It is far better than a dark room, or star- 
vation, or any thing which keeps the child a long time in 
a bad humour. But carefully avoid chastisement in the 
heat of passion, for this will do your children more harm 
than good. Keep your children as long as you can 
in your own house. Domestic feeling is £. sacred tie, 
which should be preserved fresh and strong, as long a? 
possible. Often, mothers lose all their influence over 
sons by their being sent abroad to school. Have as 
much of your children's education, therefore, conducted 
at home, as is practicable. Be assured, that no place 
is so favourable to the good feelings and morals of the 
young, as the family circle, unless the family be des- 
titute of religion and virtue ; and for such I do not now 
write. Boarding schools, for girls, may be useful, — 
but I would advise you to keep your daughters at home, 
under your own eye, — and when they go to school in 
the day, let them come home at night. You may pos- 
sibly find a better school by sending them abroad, but 

33 



386 COUNSELS TO CHRISTIAN MOTHERS. 

the sacrifice is too great ; and the risk of evil habits and 
evil sentiments is not small. And as to your sons, if 
they must go abroad, place them in the family of some 
pious man, and under the maternal care of some pious 
woman, where they may find a substitute for parental 
attention. While absent, let them return home as fre- 
quently as may be, that what I have called the * do- 
mestic' feeling may be preserved. If your sons must 
be put to a trade, or become clerks in a store or count- 
ing-house, be very particular as to the character and 
conscientious fidelity of their master. It is lamentable 
to see, how youth in these circumstances are neglected ; 
and how they are exposed to temptations, from which 
it is hardly possible they should escape without guilt 
and contamination. 

I would earnestly recommend it to mothers to keep 
up a correspondence, by letter, with their children when 
removed from the domestic roof: a single word of ad- 
monition and warning, from a mother, might be the 
means of reclaiming a beloved son from the verge of 
a precipice. But whatever else you neglect, omit not 
to follow your children, when absent, with your daily 
prayers. Very often, this is the only thing which is 
left to mothers. Their children are either removed far 
from them; or, if near, they have lost their influence 
over them. But there is One, who is near to them, 
and who can influence them. O mothers ! plead for 
your dear offspring at the throne of grace, travail in 
birth for them, a second time. God is gracious. God 
will regard the fervent, importunate cry of Christian 
mothers. Bespeak also the prayers of friends. Get 
them to unite with you in social prayer. This le; 
me to speak of those societies, called "'Maternal A 
ciations." If prudently and humbly conducted, they 
are calculated to be eminently useful. Let all par 
and ostentation be avoided, and mothers may meet and 
pray for their dear children, as often as they are dis- 
posed. 



LETTER TO A MOURNING, AFFLICTED WIDOW. 

My Dear Friend, — What a change in your circum- 
stances and worldly prospects within a short time ! A 
few months since, you appeared to be carried along in 
the full tide of prosperity. Every thing seemed to 
smile around you, and probably you had no anticipa- 
tion of the sad reverse which has occurred. Blessed with 
health and abundance ; happy in the possession and 
regard of an excellent husband, and in seeing around 
you lovely and promising children, who were the joy 
of your heart. But now, alas ! you are a bereaved, 
desolate widow; — you have experienced the greatest 
loss which you could experience of any earthly posses- 
sion ; — and, to increase the calamity, (for afflictions are 
apt to come in clusters,) another stroke has fallen on 
you, so that you have sorrow upon sorrow. Under 
such afflicting circumstances, what can I say to allevi- 
ate your distress? I am afraid that I can do no more 
than to express my tender sympathy. Though far 
off from the scene of your suffering, I feel for you — I 
could weep with you. Officious efforts to check the 
swelling torrent of grief, on such occasions, are injudi- 
cious, and rather tend to aggravate than relieve our 
misery. Nature must have its course. Tears, if deep- 
rooted grief does not prevent, furnish almost the only 
mitigation of which the mourner is susceptible : and 
what nature demands, God does not forbid. There is 
no sin in the feelings of lively sorrow, which such be- 
reavements produce. The blessed Saviour did indeed 
forbid the daughters of Jerusalem to weep for him, 
because he had undertaken to bear the curse of God 
for us, without alleviation ; but he tells them to weep 
for themselves and their children. He did also exhort 
the bereaved widow of Nam not to weep ; but the rea- 
son of this was, that he intended immediately to restore 

387 



388 LETTER TO A MOURNING, 

to life her only son, then lying dead before her. When 
our blessed Lord came to Bethany, and found the two 
sisters, Martha and Mary, in a state of deep distress, on 
account of the recent death of their only brother (the sup- 
port and protector of the family), does he forbid their 
tears ? No : the compassionate Jesus weeps with them ! 
How interesting, how amiable, does the kind condescen- 
sion and tender sympathy of the Son of God towards this 
afflicted family appear ! They had reason to be sur- 
prised at his conduct beforehand, because, when they 
sent for him, he delayed coming until their brother was 
dead. His motive for this delay, they understood not ; 
but, when he came, they both remarked with sorrow- 
ful regret, " Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother 
had not died." And when lie answered, u Thy bro- 
ther shall rise again," they still had no other apprehen- 
sion of his meaning, than that he should arise at the 
last day. But his benevolent purpose was to restore 
to them their beloved brother, by raising him from the 
grave, where he had lain four days. But so deeply 
was his compassionate heart affected by the sight of 
the tears and distress of his beloved friends, that lie 
not only wept with them, but groaned in his spirit, and 
was troubled, and said, " where have you laid him ?" 
And before he would enter the house to rest himself 
after his journey, he must visit the grave of his friend, 
that he might at once relieve the aching hearts of these 
pious women. But no such relief can now be ex- 
pected. Jesus, the almighty Saviour, who is " the 
resurrection and the life/' no longer sojourns among 
men. But it should still be a consolation to mourners, 
that, though exalted at the right hand of God, the 
compassionate Redeemer is accessible, and that his ten- 
der sympathy is still retained; "for we have not an 
High Priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of 
our infirmities." He knows as well what his disciples 
suffer, as if he were upon earth ; and is as able to aid 
them and to comfort them in all their sorrows. I can- 
not, then, give you better advice, than to "look unto 
Jesus" — ■" who, for the joy set before him, endured the 
cross, despising the shame, and is now set down at 



AFFLICTED WIDOW. 389 

the right hand of God." I know of no consideration 
which is more effectual to reconcile us to bear with 
submission our heaviest afflictions, than the contempla- 
tion of our divine Redeemer wading through floods of 
sorrow for our sake ; yea, overwhelmed with a weight 
of distress which pressed him to the ground in a 
bloody agony, and caused him to cry out with an ex- 
ceeding bitter cry, "My soul is exceeding sorrowful, 
even unto death ;" and on the cross to exclaim, " My 
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" "Did 
Jesus thus suffer, and shall I repine?" He was the 
Son of God : he was holy, harmless, undefiled, and 
separate from sinners ; and yet for our sake, he bore 
this infinite pressure of grief. This suggests another 
consideration, which I have always found, when I 
could feel its force, to have a powerful effect in re- 
pressing a murmuring and repining disposition. It is, 
that we suffer less than we deserve. God afflicts us, it 
may be, severely ; but his strokes are lighter than our 
sins. If it were not for his unmerited mercy, we 
should now be in hell. 

Add to this, that God does not willingly afflict : he 
takes no pleasure in the sufferings of any of his crea- 
tures, much less in the sorrows of his children ; but he 
chastises them for their real good. Why some are so 
much more afflicted than others, we do not know ; but 
we do know, " that all things work together for good 
to them that love God ;" and that, although " no chas- 
tening for the present is joyous, but grievous, yet af- 
terwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness 
unto them who are exercised thereby.'^ The afflicted 
mourner finds it hard to believe this promise, and can- 
not see how it is possible that such a calamity should 
be of any benefit. But God's word is to be credited in 
opposition to our own feelings, and to all appearances. 
He has ways of working which we do not now under- 
stand, but shall know hereafter. He can make our 
bitterest anguish a salutary medicine for our diseased 
souls. Our whole course througn this world is in- 
tended to be a state of trial and discipline ; and there- 
fore it is ordained, that " through much tribulation, we 

33* 



390 LETTER TO A MOURNING, 

must enter the kingdom." And all who are seen 
standing on Mount Zion, clothed in white robes and 
palms in their hands, had "come out of great tribu- 
lation." 

Another consideration of great weight in reconciling 
us to our lot is, the shortness of time, and our nearness 
to the joys of heaven. When, by faith, we can form 
some just estimate of this matter, the keenest sufferings 
and most distressing bereavements, sink into insignifi- 
cance. Who in our times suffer as did the primitive 
Christians? and yet Paul calls their afflictions light and 
momentary. And well may we be satisfied to bear 
them ; " for they work out for us a far more exceeding 
and eternal weight of glory." And again, he says, " the 
sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be 
compared with the glory which shall be revealed ID us." 
And it is reasonable to think that " the rest that re- 
maineth for the people of God," will be enjoyed with 
a higher zest, by those who pass into heaven from a 
state of affliction, than by others. 

I know, indeed, that by this visitation of God, your 
worldly prospects are sadly clouded; and you may 
feel yourself to be in a deplorably helpless condition. 
Unaccustomed to manage or preside, you are thrown 
into distressing perplexity whenever you reflect upon 
your condition. But I entreat you not to indulge these 
gloomy forebodings. God has a way by which you 
and your little family can be supported. He will 
guide, protect, and bless you, if you confide in Him. 
You are, indeed, in an unfriendly world, and will fre- 
quently meet with selfish and unfeeling men, who will 
not scruple to take advantage of your ignorance of 
the affairs of the world; but a "judge of the father- 
less and widow is God ;" and he invites you in a pe- 
culiar manner to make him your refuge. "Leave," 
says he, " thy fatherless children, and I will preserve 
them, and let your widows trust in me." Take 
shelter under the covert of his wings, and commit 
yourself entirely into his hand, and he will never leave 
nor forsake you. The more you get into the habit of 
seeing to ypur own affairs, and transacting your owe 



AFFLICTED WIDOW. 391 

business, the better it will be for you. Nothing will 
preserve you more effectually from melancholy and 
dejection, than constant occupation. Females are 
often found to possess a talent for business, which 
neither they nor others ever suspected. Accept the 
kind aid of friends, but do not depend upon it. If 
necessary, engage in some business that will help to 
support you. Teaching children is a peculiarly suit- 
able employment for a widow who has children of her 
own to be educated. Widows who reside in towns 
and cities are often enabled to obtain the means of 
subsistence by taking genteel boarders. Know exactly 
what your income is, and be sure to keep within it in 
your expenses. Debt is ruinous to all, and especially 
to widows. Take counsel from judicious friends ; but 
seek, in all cases, direction from the Lord. Be strict 
in the government of your children. Make them obey 
you implicitly, while they are young, and do not spoil 
them by indulgence. But I do not recommend seve- 
rity. Of this, however, you will be in no danger. In- 
culcate religion upon their minds, and pray much for 
them. Teach them, when old enough, the loss they 
have sustained, and impress upon their minds the ne- 
cessity of sobriety and frugality. " Bring them up u\ 
the nurture and admonition of the Lord." 



LETTER TO A BEREAVED WIDOWER. 



My Dear Afflicted Friend — Since I heard of your 
bereavement, by which " the desire of your eyes" has 
been taken away from you by a sudden stroke, I have 
thought often of you, and resolved to write you a letter 
of condolence ; but perhaps, every effort to soothe your 
sorrow, at present, will prove ineffectual. It is not 
improbable, that the only relief which I can afford you 
under the heavy calamity which a mysterious provi- 
dence has laid upon you, will arise from the mere ex- 
pression of my affectionate sympathy. I know that 
your loss is great ; and that your heart is more rent and 
broken than I, who have never experienced a similar 
bereavement, can conceive. I admit that your loss is 
irreparable. The beloved wife of your youth, and the 
object of your earliest affection, whose chaste and re- 
ciprocal affection cemented an union which nothing 
but death could dissolve, and which made her as neces- 
sary to your comfort as your own heart, is gone. Her 
worth as an affectionate companion and most intimate 
friend, could only be fully known to yourself. She 
was, indeed, like a guardian angel, who was ever pre- 
sent to aid you ; and although she was careful never 
to leave her own proper sphere, to obtrude her opinion 
in matters of which she was no competent judge ; yet, 
in innumerable cases, when your spirit was too much 
excited, or even exasperated, by the rude collisions 
with the world, she has gently and almost impercepti- 
bly kept you back from rash expressions and precipi- 
tate acts, to which your disposition is, in such circum- 
stances, somewhat inclined. Even when she did not 
speak a word, the example of her meekness and gen- 
tleness has been the means of restraining you, or recall- 
ing you to a sense of your Christian duty. If I should 
attempt to lessen your feeling of the greatness of your 
loss, I should but mock your sincere and deep-rooted 
grief. No j the chasm made in your earthly enjoy- 

392 



LETTER TO A BEREAVED WIDOWER. 393 

merits can never, in any event, be completely filled. 
That this is indeed the true state of the case, I cannot 
but feel, when I think of your dear little motherless 
children. Their loss surely cannot be made up. They 
can never have a second mother. God has implanted 
the genuine maternal feeling in no heart, but that of 
the real mother. I can imagine the desolate feeling of 
helplessness and wretchedness which spreads over your 
soul with an overwhelming weight, whenever you look 
on these beloved babes, who are too young to be fully 
sensible of the greatness of their bereavement ; and 
especially when you gaze upon the little stranger, of 
whom it can scarcely be said, that she ever saw her 
mother. No one feels more dependent and helpless, in 
such circumstances, than a father, much occupied with 
the important concerns of the public. And did not 
kind female friends come to his assistance, he would be 
almost ready to despair. But these are the occasions 
in which the interpositions of Providence are most re- 
markable. Help comes seasonably, when no helpers 
seem to be near ; and it comes often from unexpected 
quarters. I have often wondered at the tenderness and 
assiduity of female nurses, and their cheerful perform- 
ance of painful services, when their prospect of remu- 
neration was small. I have little doubt, but that 
already, although your affliction is so recent, you ha re 
had much cause to adore the kind workings of a benig- 
nant Providence in your behalf. Your cup is not one 
of unmixed misery. In the midst of judgment there 
is mercy. God hitherto has provided for your necessi- 
ties, and will still provide. Let your trust in Him be 
constant and unwavering. Although the stroke which 
lias laid you low, and clothed you, as it were, with 
sackcloth and ashes, must be attended, upon every re- 
flection, with piercing anguish; yet let one idea be 
ever prominent in your mind, while thinking on this 
mournful subject: "it is my Father's hand which has 
inflicted this wound, and caused this pain ; and He 
doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of 
men." The uninterrupted and uncommon prosperity 
which has hitherto attended you, makes this stroke 



394 LETTER TO A BEREAVED WIDOWER. 

doubly distressing. From your youth, you seem to 
have enjoyed the peculiar care of Providence. Though 
early deprived of the watchful care of an excellent 
father, you found friends who almost supplied the pkice 
of a father; who not only provided for your bodily 
wants, but took care of your education ; and I do not 
know that your advantages could have been greater, 
had your good father continued to live. And since 
you have become a man, and entered into that course 
of life which you were permitted to choose lor your- 
self, I know of no one, in the same line, who has I 
more successful in his pursuits, or who has been able 
to conciliate more effectually the public favour. In- 
deed, until this Bad event, in a moment, dashed the cup 
of worldly prosperity, you might be said to have ! 
like a favourite child, dandled on the knee, and c\p 
to no rude blasts of adversity. Uut however plea* 
such scenes of prosperity, and however ardently we 
cling to worldly comforts, it is a fact confirmed by . 
eral experience, that a long continuance of such a state 
is not favourable to the growth of piety. The heart 
hardens in this continual sunshine. Imperceptibly we 
lose the abiding, practical sense of our entire depend- 
ence and weakness, and are prone to say, like the royal 
psalmist, " My mountain stands strong, I shall never 
be moved." And in such a state, we not only have a 
weak impression of our feebleness and dependence, 
but a greatly diminished sense of our own sinfulness. 
And we know that a deep feeling of our wretched de- 
pravity lies at the foundation of "repentance towards 
God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ," and of every 
lively exercise of piety. It is then good — it is neces- 
sary, to have the blindness of our minds and the hard- 
ness of our hearts removed by some means. Our love 
of ease would have it done in some less painful man- 
ner. We are willing to obtain the blessing, but not to 
endure the chastisement connected with it. We love 
health, but utterly dislike the medicine suited to restore 
it. But could not God carry on his people's sanctifica- 
tion without inflicting upon them wounds so deep and 
painful ? What he can do is not the question. He is 



LETTER TO A BEREAVED WIDOWER. 395 

a sovereign, and doth what he will, and requires sub- 
mission on our part. " Be still and know that I am 
God." " Hear the rod, and him that hath appointed 
it." It is enough for us to be assured, that this is God's 
usual and appointed method of leading his chosen 
people to the heavenly Canaan. They must first pass 
through the briers and thorns of the wilderness. 
Through much tribulation they must enter the king- 
dom. Although severe afflictions are sometimes sent 
principally as a trial of faith, patience and submission, 
as we learn from the example of Job, yet most men, 
who know themselves, will not be at a loss for reasons 
to consider their own afflictions as chastisements. One 
of the first salutary effects of the rod, is to stir up to 
thorough self-examination. It leads to "great search- 
ings of heart," awakens the sleeping conscience, and 
dispels the illusion which worldly prosperity had im- 
perceptibly spread over the mind. The wounded soul 
starts and trembles, and takes a retrospect of the course 
which has been pursued. If pride, or avarice, or lux- 
ury has been too much indulged, and has led to 
unchristian behaviour, those indulgences and those 
actions (the turpitude of which was concealed,) now 
stand forth in bold relief, in the view of the awakened 
mind ; and the penitent backslider falls prostrate, con- 
fesses the enormity and ingratitude of his sins, and 
earnestly cries to God for mercy and for healing. Alas ! 
when we are at ease, and living in prosperity, how 
cold and careless are we in our devotional exercises! 
Engrossed with worldly business, and too well satisfied 
with creature comforts, we forget God, and lose sight 
of heaven. From this state of alienation we are sel- 
dom reclaimed by the word alone. Indeed, in such a 
frame, the truth can scarcely be said to have access to 
our minds. But when the severe stroke of our Fa- 
ther's rod is experienced, we begin to feel with keen 
sensibility, and to pray with unwonted fervency and 
importunity. And the afflicted child of God thus ar- 
rested, convinced and humbled, cannot rest until he 
obtains some new evidence of reconciliation — some ma- 
nifestation of the love and favour of his offended Father 



396 LETTER TO A BEREAVED WIDOWER. 

My dear sir, this affliction, severe as it is, fnay here 
after appear to have been in its consequences, a most 
important blessing. In the view of it you may cry 
out, " It was good for me to be afflicted ; for before 1 
was afflicted, I went astray, but now I keep thy stat- 
utes." This dispensation may be not only useful but 
necessary. It is not extravagant, nor inconsistent with 
the unchangeahleness of God's purpose of mercy to 
his people to say, that severe chastisements may be in- 
dispensably necessary to their salvation. His promise 
of eternal life to believers is not irrespective of the 
appropriate means. The apostle Peter speaks of a 
need be, that some should "be in heaviness through 
manifold temptation;" "that the. trial of your faith," 
says he, "being much more precious than of gold that 
perisheth, though it be tried by fire, mighl be found 
unto praise and honour and glory, at the appearing of 
Jesus Christ." And Paul exalts the value and eflft 
of afflictions above all comparison, when 1: 
"These light afflictions, which are hut lor a moment, 

work out for US a far more exceeding and eternal 

weight of glory." But observe, he calls them all light 

and momentary — that is, in comparison with eternal 
blessedness. As be says, m another place, u For I 
reckon that the sufferings o{ this present time, are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be 
revealed in us." Is not the fact, that we are so < 
down and overwhelmed with afflictions, an evidence 
of the weakness of our faith? If eternity was m full 
view, should we be so deeply affected with our be- 
reavements; especially, when we have good reason to 
hope that our departed friends are happy in heaven? 
They are only gone before to the place whither we 
hope soon to follow them. I would say then, u gird 
up the loins of your mind." You are in the v'\u 
of life, and in the midst of your days, and your Lord 
has much work for you to do. The talents which he 
has committed to you, should be most diligently im- 
proved. The best cure for grief is, unceasing activity 
in the cause of the Redeemer. I seem to feel assured 
that this will be a new era in your life ; and although 



LETTER TO A BEREAVED WIDOWER. 397 

you have not been idle, nor unconcerned for the glory 
of your Master, yet methinks the remainder of your 
days will be far more fruitful than the past. I do trust 
that your light will burn with a more bright and steady 
flame. Henceforth you will not be liable to look for a 
paradise on this side heaven. And you will be more 
disposed than ever before, to concentrate your affections 
on those things which are above. And as God's peo- 
ple are a poor and afflicted people, for the most part, 
he may be preparing you to be a comforter of the 
mourners in Zion ; for none are qualified for this office, 
but such as, having tasted the bitter cup of sorrow, have 
been made partakers also of divine consolation, — as 
Paul says to the Corinthians, " Blessed be God, even 
the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mer- 
cies and God of all comfort ; who comforteth us in all our 
tribulations, that we may be able to comfort them which 
are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith we our- 
selves are comforted of God." 

It would be utterly superfluous to dissuade you from 
thinking soon of a second marriage. Your own feel- 
ings render every such idea abhorrent to your mind. 
Perhaps it is indelicate and unkind to mention the sub- 
ject at all ; but, as human feelings undergo a great 
change in the lapse of a few months, and I may not 
have the opportunity of speaking to you again, I would 
say, be not hasty in this matter. Consider long, and 
pray much over the subject, before you determine to 
place a step-mother over your children. I do not wish 
to lay any heavy burthen on your shoulders. I do not 
mean to say that it may not be a duty in due time to 
seek another companion ; but I do say, proceed cau- 
tiously and conscientiously in this business. I do be- 
lieve that many make a sad mistake in entering a 
second time into the bonds of wedlock. As a prudent 
wife comes from the Lord, ask counsel of Him. 



THE END. 



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